


Perception

by amukmuk



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Explicit Language, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Harassment, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Slurs, playing politics, serving up some justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 121,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amukmuk/pseuds/amukmuk
Summary: Clone Commander Fox is not fond of Senators nor how they abuse his men. Senator Riyo Chuchi is new and only knows what the media portrays about clones. Only time will show them the truth about each other.
Relationships: Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Comments: 900
Kudos: 773





	1. Thirty Seconds

“Alright troopers, listen up,” Fox begins. He, along with the leaders of various squads, stand around the circular table in the briefing room. “In typical Corrie Guard fashion, we have a busy day ahead of us. I’ll be indisposed for the majority of the day escorting shiny senators around the hall. If anyone has an emergency please contact Commander Thire. Commander Thorn, you and Alpha squadron will need to be in the general assembly hall at 0800. They will be having debates regarding the refugee legislation. Senate Guard expects things to get heated. Commander Stone, you and Delta squad are on prison duty. There are multiple prisoner transfers. Check the schedule on the system drive. Ask if you have any questions. Lieutenant Puck I need patrols in sectors I-22 through 43; there have been multiple reports of increased spice trafficking through there. Assemble as many men as you think you will need to get that done. Are there any questions?”

“No, sir!” Everyone shouts. 

“Dismissed.”

The group of men turn on their heels and exit. In the brief moment of silence before the shit storm of another day as the Commander of Coruscant Guard commences, Fox massages his temples and takes a deep breath. He is going to need some caf and a venator’s load of patience to get through today. There is nothing worse than personally escorting senators around the senate hall, especially _new_ senators. 

Every senator that Fox has ever personally met has been nothing but a complete and utter asshole, and that is putting it mildly. They talk to him like he is dirt beneath their fancy designer shoes and while he has gotten very, _very_ good at not physically reacting, the commonplace of their maltreatment doesn’t raise his ire any less. Every time someone spits on him, it pisses him off just as much as the first time. Every time someone yells at his shinies, he wants to throttle them just as bad as if it were the first time. 

But, despite his daily abuse, new senators are the worst. They think that just because they got elected, they deserve to have the world presented to them on a gold fucking platter. The worst part, Fox thinks, is that their insults aren’t even original. If someone were actually able to come up with an insult creative enough that he has never heard of before, he could maybe set aside his anger for a hot second to give them a brief kudos. If he couldn’t make himself find humor in it, then senators would be getting knee-capped left and right. There is only so much to a sleep deprived, caf-and-spite fueled clone’s temper. So far, the best insult has been ‘red-painted dildo’ and he almost laughed. Almost. 

Today could stand a chance of being better if he were able to escort them in a large group. Like yanking off a bacta patch, he could get all the insults - and borderline physical abuse at times - out of the way. But no. Each senator who needs a tour is arriving at different times; so today will consist of him getting belittled on multiple occasions instead of all at once as well as repeating himself endlessly to people who just _won’t listen_. 

He needs a raise. 

_Oh wait._

He knocks back the rest of his caf in one hefty swallow and slips his helmet on. Today is about to be a long _fucking_ day. 

~

Fox stands on the platform as the ship of senator number one lands. Settling into a formal parade rest, he quickly does a mental flip through the senator’s file. He had spent all of last night creating and reviewing these files. Char Bibbeck is from Colunda Prime and was elected to represent the Colunda Sector. He’s known for having populist political beliefs that aided in him getting elected despite his gambling scandal on Colunda, where he had lost almost a million taxpayer credits betting on eopie races. The senator measures just a little taller than the clones and features icy white hair and crisp blue eyes. 

As the ramp lowers, Fox gives his head a small shake, readying himself to welcome the senator. Bibbeck saunters down the ramp and up to Fox. He’s wearing black robes with a fancy, crystal blue cravat tucked under his collar. Even from the distance between them Fox can see the several silver rings adorning his fingers and the shine of his genuine leather boots. 

“Welcome to Coruscant, Senator Bibbeck,” Fox snaps to picture perfect attention. Heels together, shoulders back, chin up. 

The senator looks past him and around. “Where is my grand welcome to the senate?”

“Sir?”

“Am I not to be welcomed by the Chancellor himself?”

“There is a dinner with the Chancellor at 1900 this evening, sir.”

Bibbeck clucks his tongue. “I cannot believe this disrespect. Sending a _clone_ to greet me as if I am nothing less than a secretary. I am the _Senator_ of the Colunda system. This is unacceptable.”

Fox grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. “My apologies, sir,” Fox states dryly before he gets down to business. “I will be leading you on a tour of the Senate Hall, at the end of the tour I will escort you to your personal chambers.”

The senator rolls his eyes. “And what do I have to learn from a _clone_ ? You only know how to fire a blaster and apparently speak in a positively _uncivilized_ accent. Who taught you basic? You sound like you were raised in a backwater skughole.”

Fox sucks in a deep breath. “My apologies, sir. I believe you are on a very tight schedule, so if I may begin the tour.” 

“What is your number? What commander do I need to speak to about your attitude?”

The edges of Fox’s vision tinge in red as he struggles to keep his voice steady. “My number is CC-1010 and _I_ am the head commander of the Coruscant Guard, sir. If you have an issue with how I run things, you can take it up with Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself.”

With a huff, Bibbeck shoves Fox out of his way and snarls, “Fine. Let's get this over with, _clone_.”

~

Fox stands at the landing platform, yet again, awaiting the third senator of the day that needs a tour - Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora. Recently elected just after her graduation from a prestigious university, Senator Chuchi has been fairly quiet about her ideals. She doesn’t give inflammatory speeches like Senator Organa and Amidala, but instead seems to keep everything close to the chest. Overall, there is nothing terribly remarkable about her. She has no criminal record, no scandals, not even so much as a parking ticket on her record. Fox allows himself a small glimmer of hope; maybe, _finally_ , he will have a senator in his charge that isn’t a complete pain in the ass. 

The ramp lowers and off steps a very petite - much shorter than Fox had expected, even with her height recorded in her file - blue, senator. Unlike the other senators he has greeted today, the Pantoran Senator is not dressed lavishly in robes and fine jewelry. She wears a golden headpiece - probably expensive, but possibly something of cultural relevance - and a modest burgundy suit jacket and skirt. Her shoes are black flats, but just from a quick glance he can see that they are scuffed all to hell - if he had to guess they are probably a favorite or have sentimental value. 

Snapping effortlessly to attention, he greets, “Welcome to Coruscant, Senator Chuchi.”

“Thank you… I’m sorry, what is your name?” Her voice is smooth and soft. She speaks tentatively, like she is putting purpose behind each of her words. 

“CC-1010, ma’am, I am the Commander of the Coruscant Guard here to escort you on a tour of the Senate Hall, brief you on safety procedures, and show you to your official chambers, ma’am.”

“Very well. I look forward to learning from your expertise.”

His expertise? 

_What?_

Trying not to get too caught up in her words - senators tend to have silver tongues like that - he performs a flawless about-face and begins escorting her off the landing pad and into the Senate Hall. 

They enter the main chamber, where large marble pillars hold up the high, domed ceiling. “This is the main chamber,” he begins. “You can access any of the lifts from here. Several councils and committees meet in the rooms that are branched from the halls on your left and right.” He turns, walking backwards and motions to the directions of the committee chambers. She, however, is staring with her jaw slightly agape at the fine detailing on the ceiling and pillars. Fox remembers the first time he walked through these halls, his face didn’t look unlike hers in this moment. 

He flips back around and continues walking down one of the hallways that looks, well, less grand than the entrance. The walls are a simple egg-shell color and the carpet a drab brown. “This leads into the rotunda’s ground floor,” he explains. “You can also take any of these lifts to the floor with your Senatorial Pod, which is T-322. I’ll take you there now, so that you know where to go when the general assembly meets.” He presses the button on the lift and she looks around. 

“This building is massive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he acknowledges. 

“Running security for this place must be nearly impossible.”

“We have help from the Senate Guard, ma’am.”

If by help he means migraine-inducing incompetence, then yes. He has plenty of help from the useless sacks called Senate Guards. 

She falls silent again as they step into the lift, which was thankfully unoccupied, and Fox presses the button to lead them to her the floor where her pod is located. 

“So how long have you been the Commander of the Guard?” She asks. 

“Since the battle of Geonosis, ma’am,” he answers. 

She nods slowly, her headpiece chiming delicately. “Do you like it?”

His mind stops. “What?”

She turns to look up at him, her golden eyes fixing on the visor on his helmet. For a dizzying second, he thinks she can actually see his face, that his helmet has suddenly floated off into the ether. “Do you like serving here on Coruscant?”

No, he doesn’t. He feels like he is sitting around being about as useful as a screen door on a space shuttle, while his brothers fearlessly lead battalions. He files paperwork and listens to senators whine about not having material goods while his brothers bleed for them - die for them. The lie flows effortlessly from his lips, “Yes ma’am, it is an honor to serve the Republic.”

Like he even has a choice. 

Maybe he is just as silver-tongued as the senators.

A soft smile curves her lilac lips. “Yes, I feel the same. I just… hope I can do some good in this position.”

Thankfully, the lift comes to a halt and Fox steps out, Senator Chuchi hot on his heels. “Here is the floor you will need, if you notice, there are signs pointing to where you need to go.”

The sign is simple, numbers and arrows denoting which pods are where. Her pod happens to be towards the left. He steps out onto the pod and shows her the Rotunda, also referred to as the General Assembly Hall. She gawks at the hundreds and hundreds of pods before she speaks. 

“Traditionally, how many people sit in a pod at a time?” 

“Three. However, some senators choose to sit by themselves, as well, ma’am.”

With a nod, she lets him lead her back from whence they came. Then, he takes her through a maze of hallways with which he is far, _far_ too acquainted. As the commander, he has memorized every hall, every ventilation shaft of this building. He can name every senator’s office chambers without looking at the name plaques and comes to a halt at the door of her chambers easily. “Here is your office, ma’am.”

She enters the room and grimaces. “I will most certainly have to get some plants,” she comments as she flicks on the lights and takes in the modest provisions of the Republic. 

He has no comment for that and instead reaches for a datapad clipped to his belt. “This is for you, Senator. It has all of the Coruscant Guard contact information as well as a map of the Rotunda and Senate District. It is recommended that you stay within the district. At no point should you ever travel to the lower levels. Senators usually have high bounties on them, even if they are newly elected.”

She swallows. “Yes, sir.”

He stiffens. 

She… is actually _listening_? 

“Additionally, if you find that you require any additional furnishing, you can find them in the senatorial catalogue loaded on this datapad,” he unclips another and hands it to her. “Send me the item number and I will add it to the list of senatorial requisitions.”

She nods. “Thank you… I believe I may be in need of some extra chairs.”

“Any questions?” He asks with a stiff nod. 

“Are there any other forbidden districts that I should be aware of, Commander?”

He shakes his head, “No, ma’am. Stay in the Senate District and you will be just fine. Regarding your day-to-day safety, you will receive a security briefing for all meetings. Please read them. In each briefing there will be information on emergency exits as well as the names of the troopers on duty.”

“Do you frequently attend senate meetings?” She asks, twisting a small gold bracelet on her wrist. 

“As frequently as I can, ma’am.”

“I imagine you're quite busy guarding all of us Senators.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She wrings her hands and sighs. 

To him, she looks uncertain as to what to do next, so he offers, “I can show you to your apartment if you’re ready, ma’am.”

“That would be quite lovely.”

~

Fox stands outside of her apartment door and hands her the key card. “You can program it to take a code as well. If you need any assistance, call the Coruscant Guard hotline and we will have a security technician out to help you.”

Accepting the card from him, she nods once before sliding it to reveal the luxurious apartment. The floor is a neat cream marble with dark navy and gold accents. The main sitting room is all he can see from the front door, but there are two long, navy couches and a golden table sitting in the middle between the two. “Wow,” she breathes as she enters.

He lingers by the door, standing at formal parade rest. When she realizes that he isn’t following her in, she turns to face him.

“Is there anything else you require, Senator?” He asks. 

Her eyebrows furrow and she worries her bottom lip for a moment before she answers. “No… I think this will be all.” She marches up to him and extends her hand. “It has been a pleasure, Commander.”

He stares at her outstretched hand for a moment, completely flabbergasted by this moment of humility. Tentatively, he accepts. Her hand is small, but she has a firm handshake. “Likewise, Senator.”

She smiles. “I thank you for your thorough tour and explanation of security procedures. I look forward to seeing you again.”

He has no response. Not once in the time that he has been Commander of the Coruscant Guard has he ever, _ever_ been treated with such human decency. He supposes it is because he isn’t human - not to the senators. No, he’s a clone - just a fleshy droid. “A Senate Guard will be here to escort you to your welcoming dinner with Chancellor Palpatine at 1830, ma’am.”

And with a curt nod, he turns on his heel and leaves. 

~

At exactly 1830 the chime on her door reverberates through her sparsely decorated apartment. Stuffing another pin in her hair to keep it up and within her headpiece, she rushes to the door. She presses the button to open it and is met with an indigo-armored man. She doesn’t think he is a clone. Clones wear only white armor, right? The Commander from earlier had worn white armor with the Coruscant Guard crest painted upon his shoulder plates - this guardsman wears no such symbol. 

“Good evening,” she greets. 

“Are you ready?” He asks. 

She is not pretentious in any way, or at least she doesn’t think she is, but she does notice the lack of ‘ma’am’ at the end of that question. After being escorted around all day by the Clone Commander, she had begun to think her name was ‘ma’am’ he used it so frequently and crisply. 

She nods and he turns, not bothering to wait for her. She practically has to run to keep up with his lengthy stride and when they get to the landing pad, he doesn’t even bother opening the door for her. Not that she was expecting that, no. She has two hands and is fully capable of opening her own doors, but she can’t help they way her mind flashes back to the Commander and how he had adjusted his pace and held doors open for her. 

They arrive at the Chancellor’s home in less time than she was expecting, or maybe she just hadn’t noticed the passage of time. Coruscant is so _alive_ and she can hardly tear her eyes away from all the twinkling lights. There are just so many people; speeders fly by them and in some she can hear melodies that she has never heard before blaring from their speakers. Coruscant, it seems, is going to be full of new experiences. 

The Senate Guard doesn’t wait for her to get out of the speeder either, she bounds after him, trying not to trip in her heels and up to the door. “This is where I leave you. Have a good evening,” he states and quite literally abandons her at the doorstep of the Supreme Chancellor’s home. 

She adjusts her fingers around the bottle of the Pantoran wine. Her mother had taught her never to show up to a dinner party empty handed. 

Thirty seconds of courage. 

She rings the doorbell. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have brought the wine. Some may view it as bribery. Just as her heart lurches into her throat at the thought of making a poor first impression to the _Supreme Chancellor_ himself, the door slides open. 

“Ah Senator Chuchi! Just on time!” The Chancellor smiles. 

“Chancellor,” she returns his smile, stepping into the apartment. “Please accept this gift on behalf of Pantora.”

“Oh, traditional Pantoran wine from the yunchki fruit! How delightful!” As he ushers her into the formal dining room, lavishly decorated in black and crimson, Riyo takes note of the two clone troopers standing in the periphery. 

A shudder runs down her spine. 

She imagines that she will get used to seeing clones in non-combat settings, but it’s hard. All she has seen is the near all day, every day coverage of the war. She has seen them brutally demolish their opponents and she is uncomfortable with cold-blooded killers sitting so close to her while she dines. She stamps down her fear - after all, they are meant to follow orders and no one is going to order them to shoot her - she takes stock of the room.

The table is long - taking up most of the length of the dining room - and shaped oddly like an eye, coming to a sharp point at each end. Senators from all across the galaxy are gathered around the table and she takes up a seat next to a woman wearing a very clearly expensive gown. 

“May I sit here?” Riyo asks. 

The woman simply waves her hand, giant gemstone rings flashing in the light, and turns back to the man sitting on her other side. 

Tonight is about to be a long night. 

~

Back in her apartment, Riyo crashes onto her bed with a sigh. Dinner had been miserable. She can’t even put it into words. She had been too nervous to eat, not that it mattered; the portions were so small she couldn’t see how the dishes could have ever earned the right to be called _dinner_. She thinks about writing to her mom, but she puts that thought away. It is only her first night on this uncomfortably warm city-planet. She can’t be homesick already. 

Yet she longs for the cool, breezy, marshes of her homeworld. 

With a sigh, she gets back up. This is no way to behave. Idle hands do nothing for a racing mind. She meanders into her kitchen and looks through all of her cabinets. Fully stocked. 

She could make _actual_ dinner. 

Or she could make cookies. 

Stumbling around the kitchen until she finds everything she needs, she gets to work. 

~

Riyo hesitates as she stands outside of the Coruscant Guard office. It's a modest building, a glass door that actually needs to be _pushed_ open with the Republic crest frosted upon it. 

Thirty seconds of courage. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she charges inward. 

Behind a desk with a truly _massive_ switchboard and several computer screens, is a helmetless trooper. Instead, he wears a headset and speaks clearly, “Coruscant Guard Office, how may I direct your call?” He is silent for a beat before he speaks again, “Please hold for one moment while I connect you.” He pulls one cable from the switchboard and moves it to another. 

“Can I help you ma’am?” He asks and it takes her a moment to realize he is addressing her. 

“Um, yes. I am looking for the commander?”

“Which one?” he asks, his face impassive. She has never seen a clone without his helmet and she is shocked by how young he looks - no more than twenty-two standard years at most. 

“I, uh,” she shifts her weight back and forth. “I don’t recall his name.” It was a number, CC-something? “He gave me a tour yesterday of the senatorial facilities.”

“Oh that’s Commander Fox, all the way down the hall, last door on your right,” he instructs, pointing down the hall before returning to his switchboard. “Coruscant Guard Office, how may I direct your call?”

Taking another breath to renew her courage in _actually_ doing this, she squares her shoulders and continues. 

But her supposed renewed courage does nothing to ease the feeling of utter stupidity gnawing at the back of her mind. 

They’re clones. Are they even capable of feeling gratitude? All she has ever heard is that they are deadly and easily sent into a homicidal state. They had been bred to kill after all. In the cafeteria today, she had heard chatterings from the other senators that the clones don’t even feel sentient emotions. Not knowing any other fellow senators, she had resorted to eating lunch by herself, and ultimately moved to her office to eat in silence as she read the security briefings for her first meetings. They were flawless in every sense of the word. It had made her wonder if the senators in the cafeteria had been right - that the clones really are no different than droids. 

Standing outside of the Commander’s office, she forces herself to breathe. It’s just cookies. Just a tin of cookies and a helping of gratitude. He _had_ spent all afternoon showing her the ropes and answering any questions she had. She knocks. 

“Come in.” The Commander does not sound nearly as pleasant as he did yesterday. She presses the button and the door whirls open. 

“Good afternoon, Commander.” Riyo forces herself to smile. Fear rolls in her stomach once again at being in such a small room with a clone.

His eyes jolt from the datapads piled around him to her and then at the tin. Upon spotting the tin, his eyes narrow. “What can I do for you Senator?” He looks positively terrifying and her first thought is a reminder that they were bred to kill. He has a military haircut, that is to be expected, but his dark eyes are shadowed by equally dark brows making him look a breath away from homicidal. 

She swallows. “I wanted to stop by and thank you formally for your kindness yesterday. I baked you traditional Pantoran cookies.” She offers the tin to him. 

He stares at it and then her and then back it as if an explosion was imminent. “I was just doing my duty, ma’am.”

Her heart plummets when he doesn’t reach for the tin. “For which I would like to thank you.” She shakes it at him slightly.

Slowly his face softens, the deep crease between his brows lessening. He looks… younger. “Thank you,” he mutters and accepts her gift, taking extra measure to make sure their hands do not brush. 

“Feel free to share,” she smiles and this time it feels less forced. He may not have given her a smile of his own, but his face looks significantly less irate. 

“Thank you, Senator.”

“You’re welcome, Commander.” She nods in acknowledgement and takes her leave, only letting out the breath she had been holding when she is back in the safety of her speeder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! <3 I feel like the characters - especially Riyo - may seem a lil ooc right now but that is because we are going to have major character development! I have about 16 chapters outlined and I will try to update weekly! <3


	2. Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick trigger warning: this chapter shows graphic depictions of harassment as well as a brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

Riyo’s day is off to a positively dreadful start. She woke up late, despite having woken up every hour, on the hour the night prior in fear of waking up late. She eventually fell asleep somewhere around 4 in the morning and slept through her alarm that had attempted to get her up at 6 so that she may get ready for her council meeting at 8. Now it is 7:45 and she is tearing down the hall, datapads piled in her arms and one in her hand as she tries to decipher the map that the commander had given her. 

What is his name again? 

Fox.

She crashes into someone, sending her datapads flying everywhere and immediately she sinks to her hands and knees to gather them up. _Great_. She barely had time to make herself look presentable, she hasn’t eaten, and now her datapads are going to be six ways of disorganized and - 

“I believe this is yours, ma’am?” She follows the gloved hand up, up, up to the familiar helmet that had escorted her around not three days ago. It is as if her thoughts had summoned him. 

“Yes. I am extremely sorry to have run into you like this. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” She rises and accepts the data pad from him. “I’m very sorry, Commander, but I am looking for chamber E-11. You wouldn’t happen to know where that is, would you?”

He nods once. “Yes ma’am, I’m on my way there myself.”

“Oh what a wonderful coincidence,” she smiles, falling in step with him. He has long legs and a terribly fast pace, but once he sees her struggling, he slows to match her, something for which she is grateful. The last thing she needs is to look like she has run to the committee meeting. “So, how are you this morning?” She asks. 

His head snaps towards her and he’s quiet for a beat, stirring up fear that she may have offended him in some way. Do clones feel emotions like that? All of the clones that she has seen thus far have stood ramrod straight at entry ways, or stalked down corridors with stiff purpose. They have been emotionless, but a far cry better at their job than the Senate Guard who had escorted her to dinner. People can say what they want about clones, but at least they’re efficient. 

“I’m… fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking. How are you?” 

She huffs, blowing a stray mauve hair out of her face. “I’ve been better. I woke up late, barely had time to get ready, didn’t eat breakfast, and got lost. The only thing left to do is realize I forgot my pants or something.”

He looks pointedly at her legs - as if he’s going to find her pantsless and he had missed that detail at first - before commenting, “I suppose it’s a good thing you're wearing a dress then, ma’am.”

This makes her smile and she realizes that it is her first genuine smile since she landed on Coruscant. Being so far away from home is terrible. Coruscant is uncomfortably warm, something one would not expect from a planet made solely of buildings. Nobody here thinks like her - which is not a bad thing, per se - but she finds herself trying on different masks to wear depending on with whom she is conversing. Right now, in this moment, laughing at a silly joke a clone commander has pulled (something she didn’t even know they could _do_ ), she is unabashedly herself. Riyo Chuchi, who is terrified of messing up on her first day, but has found a small glimmer of hope where she thought there would be none. Perhaps clones are more human than people think. He did just crack a joke; after all, one of the benchmarks of sentiency _is_ humor. 

“Yes, it would seem that is a good thing, wouldn’t it, Commander?”

He rummages in his belt pocket and pulls out a foil-wrapped bar. “Take this, ma’am,” he offers. 

She does. “What is it?” She rolls it in her fingers. There are no markings on the outside. 

“A ration bar. It’s not the tastiest thing, but these meetings last forever. I don’t want you to pass out from hunger, ma’am.”

She quickly tears open the foil with her teeth and takes a bite. “Oh my _stars_. This is awful. You eat these?” 

He nods. “Packed with all the nutrients anyone needs to survive a day in battle.”

“Are you saying senate committees are the equivalent of a warzone?” She smiles and takes another bite, forcing herself to swallow. These truly are positively dreadful. It is dry, tasteless, and has the consistency of day-old oatmeal. 

“I said no such thing, ma’am,” he states, but she thinks she hears a smile in his voice.

“How were the cookies, by the way? I was a little worried they may have turned out dry.” Definitely not as dry as this ration bar, though. 

“They were great, ma’am. The boys really enjoyed them.”

“So you did share?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As they reach E-11, she shoves the rest of the bar in her mouth and bounces on her toes as she chews. Suddenly, she is aware that she is not petrified of his presence. Sure, he towers above her in his mostly white armor - except for the Coruscant Guard crest painted on the shoulder blades - and he should, in all rights, be terrifying. He has two blasters strapped to his hips and probably enough training to kill her without even reaching for them. Yet, he emits an almost protective aura, as if no harm will come to her so long as he is somewhere nearby. 

She wonders if all clones feel this way, then decides that they must because they are all the same. 

Riyo swallows down the rest of the ration bar. She now desperately wishes she had something to drink, but she isn’t going to be ungrateful; her mother raised her better than that. Fox stands aside and presses the button on the door for her. “After you, Senator.”

To her dismay, she finds only one seat left open around the table, so she slinks in next to a tall, grossly pale man. He looks a little sickly, if she is being candid. His skin is about as white as a piece of flimsi and his hair is nearly the same color. He wears expensive navy robes, making her feel a little underdressed. 

“Hi, Senator Bibbeck from Colunda,” he extends a slender hand.

“Senator Chuchi, Pantora,” she shakes his hand; it is cool, dry, and covered in silver rings. 

“Pantora? Isn’t that a moon in the outer rim?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very nice to see you represented here, ma’am.”

“Likewise, sir.”

Her eyes drift over to the commander in the corner. He stands at a formal parade rest, his spine perfectly straight and his hands tucked neatly behind his back. She doesn’t think she has a reason to be scared of him or any of the other clones for that matter. They are clearly here to help, which is more than what she can say about the Senate Guard. When she had asked for directions this morning, they had scoffed and turned away. Some help. 

After her interaction with Commander Fox, she is certain that if he hadn’t had to guard this meeting, he still would have escorted her here. It makes her wonder if the clones are programmed to go above and beyond the call of duty or if they are just kind-hearted. 

When the meeting is called into session, she draws herself back into reality and tries not to contemplate the intricacies of clone sentiency. They aren’t sentient. That’s the end of the sentence.

~

The Commander was right, the meeting did drag on for an eternity. When the committee finally dismisses, it is late into the afternoon and she is grateful for the ration bar he had given her. Otherwise, she probably _would_ have fainted from hunger, and that certainly wouldn’t have made the best first impression. 

Rising from her chair, she waits for the crowd to filter out into the hall. When it is just her and the Commander in the room she approaches him, “Thank you, Commander, for the ration bar. I will definitely remember to eat breakfast in the future.”

He hesitates for a moment and then nods. “Anytime, Senator.”

They exit the room together and she is about to tell him to have a good afternoon when Bibbeck comes up and shoves Fox. He doesn't move very far, in fact, his feet hardly shuffle - the jerk of his shoulders is the only true sign that he even felt it. Her mouth falls open, appalled at the sudden burst of physical violence. As senators, they’re supposed to hold themselves to a higher standard than that of playground antics. 

“What’re you doing, _clone_? Trying to get under the senator’s skirts?” 

No, _now_ she is appalled. Senator Bibbeck has just accused Commander Fox of trying to assault her. She can’t even begin to understand from where he has conjured that accusation. Since when has friendly conversation been misinterpreted as something so horrendous? 

The commander does nothing. His body is loose, hanging open like he’s tempting the senator to hit him. She almost begs him to put his fists up, to defend himself. She knows he can. He’s a _clone_. She is certain that he knows hundreds of ways to kill people. Not that she wants Bibbeck to get murdered right in front of her, but the thought of punching him in the jaw herself is tempting. 

“No one needs you here you filthy _skug_ ,” Bibbeck shoves him again. “Stay away from Chuchi, we know what goes on in your savage head.” The pale senator snatches up her wrist and, before she can say another word, drags her off. She casts a look over her shoulder, but the Commander has already turned, stalking away with his shoulders drawn up to the lip of his helmet. “You’ll want to stay away from those Clones, Chuchi,” Bibbeck states. 

“W-why?” She can barely keep up with him and the grip he is maintaining on her wrist is starting to hurt. 

“They’re nothing but conscienceless slabs of meat. All they do is kill things, sex up women in bars, and drink. It wouldn’t be safe for you to be alone with one.”

She thinks of how the Commander had softened when she handed him a tin of homemade cookies, and of how he offered her his own ration bar so that she wouldn’t go hungry. She thinks that maybe clones are more sentient than they believe. She thinks a lot of things but, as she is drug through the hall, she pushes those thoughts away. She is a senator and she needs to make allies. 

Colunda is a big system and could easily help pass legislation to protect her small outer-rim moon. So she bites her tongue, squashes down her morals and tries to force herself to play politics. 

She is a senator, after all. 

~

“Chuchi,” Senator Bibbeck begins. “I’d like to introduce you to a few friends of mine. This is Senator Ask Aak from Malastare.” The Gran man nods in greeting. “Senator Fema Baab of the Bajic Sector.” The dark-skinned woman smiles at Riyo. “And Senator Mee Deechi of Umbara.” The other sickly pale man smiles and nods. 

“Everyone, this is Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora.”

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Riyo smiles, donning her best politics mask. 

“We are going to go out for a late lunch, if you would like to join us,” Baab smiles once more. Her dark eyes glint with kindness and Riyo finds herself relaxing just a little. Bibbeck puts her on edge, and she certainly hadn’t appreciated how he had grabbed her wrist earlier, but she can imagine her and Baab bonding over a glass of wine. 

Riyo mentally checks her schedule and then nods. “That sounds quite lovely, actually.”

“Excellent!” Bibbeck slaps her on the back and she flinches. He touches her too much and she doesn’t like it. She can hardly suppress a shudder and she becomes very aware of the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge. “I will have my driver pick us up.”

They begin making their way to a landing pad when a pair of troopers come walking their way. It appears that they are scanning the parked speeders, both clearly absorbed in their work. 

Bibbeck’s face twists with a wicked grin. “Watch this.”

Riyo’s stomach lurches. 

Just as they are about to pass the two working troopers, Bibbeck sticks out his foot and the one without paint on his armor crashes to the duracrete, barely getting his hands underneath of him and his scanner skids out of his grip. 

“Better watch where you’re going, _clone_ ,” Bibbeck sneers, kicking the scanner over the edge of the walkway. 

The group of friends cackle, and Riyo forces herself to smile at the ‘joke’. The painted trooper helps up the unpainted one and Riyo doesn’t miss the way his helmet swivels to look at them. Through the visor she can feel his glare, though the mask of his helmet betrays no such animosity. 

An arm loops around hers, dragging her away. “God,” Baab begins, her laugh turning up her lips. “Clones are so _stupid_. I can’t believe the Jedi actually think they’re good enough to protect us,” she guffaws incredulously. 

“Seems silly, doesn’t it?” Riyo lies, locking her smile into place. Her cheeks hurt from forcing it, but what is a little pain to the success of legislation for her people?

~

Fox looks at the chrono on his wrist and suppresses a groan. Where is Lieutenant Puck? The briefing was supposed to start three minutes ago. His fellow Commanders stand around the briefing table, not so patiently awaiting their subordinate. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Puck pants, pulling off his helmet as he enters the briefing room. Puck dyes his hair bright red and has the stripes that are painted on his helmet also shaved into his hair. “I had an incident while training Private Rush.”

Fox suppresses the urge to pinch his nose. “What happened, Lieutenant?”

Puck glances to the three other commanders and then to Fox. “Sir, he was tripped by a Senator. He, uh, kicked Rush’s bomb scanner off the ledge. I had to order him a new one, sir.”

The fringes of Fox’s vision turn red. “Who tripped him, Puck?”

“It was Senator Bibbeck, sir. He, Aak, Deechi, Baab, and the new girl… what’s her name? Chuchi, yeah they were standing around and tripped him for a round of good laughs. Apart from the scanner, sir, no damage was done.”

Fox clenches his fists and shoves off the table, ready to go wring some necks. He will speak to the Chancellor personally if he must. His men will _not_ be bullied by a bunch of self-righteous, over-paid, bantha-brained -

Thire grabs his shoulder and shakes his head. 

Grinding his teeth, Fox closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. “Okay, troopers,” he begins. “Patrol squads have been reporting more spice traffic along sectors I33-44, I need around the clock squads out there. Spice trafficking is inevitable, but syndicate violence needs to be prevented - civvies are getting caught in the crossfire and that is unacceptable,” he begins, bottling up his anger for when he gets done briefing his men. 

~

Fox yanks off his helmet and chucks it across his storage closet-sized office. He had let himself think that Chuchi was different, that she was kind. He let himself get complacent. He _won’t_ be making that mistake again.

All senators are the same, all of them think the same things about clones - that’s how they’re able to justify this damn war. To them, it is just droids fighting droids - no moral objections are necessary. They don’t realize that they are _men_. 

Someone knocks on his door. 

“Not now,” he barks and runs his hands through his hair. He needs a haircut. 

The door whirls open anyway. Fox whips around, preparing a royal ass-chewing for whoever disobeyed his _direct_ order, but stops short when he sees Ponds, his littlest batchmate. “What’re you doing here?” He asks, his hands falling limp at his sides. 

Ponds gives him his trademark lopsided grin. One could argue that all the clones look identical, but they don't. Ponds smiles in a way that only quirks up the right side of his face, whereas Fox never smiles. There is nothing to smile about as Commander of the Guard. 

“Thought I’d stop by and say goodbye to my big brother, we’re shipping out tomorrow morning.”

“Where to?” His stomach churns. He should be going too, should be fighting this war too. After his ‘admirable service’ on Geonosis - something that had gotten him several medals of valor, but almost his entire battalion killed - he had gotten ‘promoted’ to serving the galaxy’s most important. But if by ‘most important’ they meant ‘most ungrateful’ or ‘biggest pains in his ass’ then yeah, that’s where he got ‘promoted to’. A bunch of banthashit is what it was. 

“Ryloth. Trying to get some aid to the civvies down there. They’re in pretty rough shape. Last I heard Keeli got sent there, haven’t heard back yet. The 212th and 501st will be with us, too.”

Fox nods. He doesn’t like the idea of three of his closest brothers being sent to the same planet, but this is war and family doesn’t matter at wartime. Especially non-sentient, property-of-the-Republic families. “Sounds like you’ll have good men watching your back.”

Ponds nods. “Who’s watching your back these days, Fox?”

Fox shrugs. “Not much trouble to get into as an administrative assistant.”

“That’s fucking banthashit and you know it, Fox. I saw a report saying you got tossed off a building the other day.”

He shrugs. 

“If you keep this up, you’re going to burn yourself out.”

“Good,” Fox mutters, shuffling flimsi from one side of his desk to the other. 

Ponds rounds the desk, grabbing Fox by his armor, and pins him up against the shelves behind him. A few datapads clatter to the durasteel floor. “You cut that out right now, you self-righteous nerf-herder.”

Fox glares at his younger brother. He remembers when Ponds won his first sparring match against him - this will definitely _not_ be one of those times. “Get your hands off me, Ponds, before I remove them for you.”

“No. You listen and you listen good.” He shakes Fox. “ _What_ you do matters. _Who_ you are matters. You’re not just some number, even if the senators say that you are. Fuck ‘em. You are my older brother. You’ve been a pain in my ass since we were cadets and you better take care of yourself so that you can keep being a pain in my ass. Got it?”

Fox swipes his brother’s hands from him and stares at the ground, refusing to look him in the eye. “You make it sound easy.”

“Well you make it _look_ easy. If I had to deal with the same shit as you, half of the General Assembly would be dead.”

Fox snorts despite himself, “Believe me, sometimes it's tempting.”

A beat of silence passes between them and Ponds’ happy demeanor changes. “You hear about Wolffe?”

Fox shakes his head. “No, what happened?”

Rolling his eyes, Ponds sighs. “You need to check your group chat more often.”

Now Fox rolls his eyes, “Not when you are constantly blowing it up with stupid jokes.” He sobers up as well and prepares himself for news of the first death of a batchmate. Everyone had thought it would be Bly with the way he is too distracted by his General’s backside to actually shoot straight. “What happened to Wolffe?”

“‘Parently he got caught up in some nasty ion cannon explosion. Lost his _entire_ battalion. All of them. Only he, the general, and two troopers made it out. He’s in the medbay right now getting treated for exposure.”

“Exposure?” Fox asks. 

“Yeah, he was in his soft shell when the explosion happened.”

“Fuck, he’s lucky to be alive.”

Ponds nods gravely. “Since I ship out tomorrow, I was wondering if you wanted to go see him with me tonight, maybe grab a drink after if you’re up to it Mr. 9-to-5.”

Fox shoves him. “Fuck off, Pondscum.”

He gasps in mock offense. “Is that any way to treat your baby brother?”

Fox says nothing, but grabs his helmet off of his desk. “Come on, you pain in the ass, let’s go see my other pain in the ass.”

With that same trademark grin, Ponds leads the way to medical. 

~

Wolffe lies in medbay, oxygen mask strapped to his face, and General Plo Koon standing by his bedside. “Wolffe, it looks like you have visitors,” he rumbles and both Fox and Ponds snap to attention. Neither of them were expecting to see the general, but aren’t exactly surprised either. Beside the General, Fox hears a sound of protest. Ignoring it, he turns his attention to the other two clones, “At ease, commanders.”

They both relax. 

“Wolffe is being quite disagreeable.” Another sound of protest comes from said commander. “I’m sure that is nothing new for either of you, though.”

“No, sir,” they both say. 

“Wolffe, I will be back tomorrow,” Koon states, patting Wolffe’s hand twice before passing between Fox and Ponds. “Thank you,” he mutters quietly. “He needs both of you right now. Some wounds bacta cannot heal.”

“Yes, sir,” they both nod. 

Then the room is quiet and Wolffe reaches up to snatch off his oxygen mask. “Don’t even fucking start by saying you’re sorry,” he growls. 

“I was going to say I know what you’re going through,” Fox says, remembering his own tragic loss. 

“You do _not_.”

“Geonosis,” Fox states, sliding onto the edge of the bed. Ponds takes up residence on the spare chair. Gently, Fox moves the mask back onto his little brother’s face. “You need to keep that on, little brother. Don’t want to lose anymore brain cells.”

Wolffe slaps his hand away, glaring at him. 

“Wolf’ika,” Ponds smiles, earning himself a glare as well. “I’m really sorry. I thought you could use the company.”

Wolffe pulls down his mask again. “Please just put me out of my misery. I just want to _die_.”

Fox and Ponds share a look. 

“Wolffe, you can’t think that way. You have a general who still needs you,” Ponds says. 

“You _don’t get it_!” Wolffe howls, agony dripping from his voice. “We were going to be fine. We all got into escape pods. Then fucking Grevious,” Wolffe hiccups, tears finally spilling over. “Grevious hunted down each pod. I had to listen as my men cried out for me before being sucked into the vacuum of space.” 

Heedless of his plastoid armor, Fox pulls Wolffe into a hug. 

“I can still hear them, Fox,” he sobs. “I couldn’t even do anything because I was wearing my greys. I-I don’t even want to think about wearing that stupid uniform ever again. Give me my armor, I’m never going to take it off.”

Ponds throws his arms around Wolffe as well and the two brothers hold the other while he cries. “I lost them all,” he rasps. “I-I can’t even wear my colors without thinking of them.”

“It’ll pass, Wolffe,” Ponds consoles. 

“I don’t want it to. I want the galaxy to know how much pain I feel. I want everyone to know that clones can mourn.”

“They’ll know, little brother.”

They end up holding him until he drifts asleep. Then, with great care, Fox adjusts the oxygen mask on his face and Ponds tucks the blankets around him tightly. They exit together and linger outside of the medbay doors. Neither want to say goodbye, not yet. They both know what morning will bring. Ponds will be sent away and Fox will be stuck here. 

“How did you do it?” Ponds whispers. “How did you lose all of your men?”

Fox glares at him. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean,” he huffs a breath. “How did you cope with it?”

Fox shrugs. “I was like Wolffe for a while,” he looks down at his too-clean boots. “Probably still am, if I’m being honest.”

“Does it get better?” Ponds murmurs. 

Fox looks into his brother's eyes. “No, it just makes me want to be better.”

Ponds nods and checks his chrono. “Want to grab that drink still?”

Fox checks the time and mentally counts how many hours of sleep he can get. “Sure.”

As they exit the medbay together, Ponds throws his arm around Fox’s shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself. I know this shit is, well, shit, but we would miss you if you were gone. Who else would we tease relentlessly?”

Fox guffaws. “I dunno, maybe Rex.”

Ponds laughs too and jostles them. “Just promise me, alright?”

“I promise. I promise I’ll try,” Fox concedes and they make their way to 79s. 

~

Riyo lays in bed awake. She feels disgusting, like she needs to take another shower. Her insides crawl with revulsion and she can’t pinpoint why. 

No, she knows exactly why. 

Today, when Bibbeck tripped that poor trooper, everyone had laughed. She had done her best to laugh along, but she hadn’t found a single part of it funny. At lunch, everyone had laughed and talked about how stupid clones are. At one point Bibbeck had said, “They’re nothing better than animals.”

Except her father had treated their livestock better than Bibbeck treats the clones. 

And the part that is making her sick isn’t their actions - they are nothing but bullies, it doesn’t take an expert to realize that - it is that she didn’t _say anything_ . She had watched in mute horror as a group of grown adults ridiculed a trooper - who, she has to imagine, is not allowed to defend himself - and then _laughed_. 

She feels sick. 

Rolling over, she tries to quell the racing thoughts in her head, but they gnaw at her relentlessly. 

Sure, troopers aren’t sentient. That’s why they were chosen, _created_ to fight this war - they are better than droids because they have the ability to think outside of any programming. Yet, she has seen actual droids treated better than the troopers of the Senate Hall. Senators, people who are supposed to be poised and representative of their people, make fun of them, mock them, point and laugh at them. 

It can be argued that troopers have no sentiency, that they are bred to follow orders and kill, but that doesn’t mean they are meant to be subjected to harassment from her peers. 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading!! I have adored seeing all the comments and kudos! (That is mostly why I decided to post this chapter early) <333


	3. Building Bridges

Two weeks into this whole senator thing and Riyo thinks she may finally be getting a hang of it. She has been invited to dinner with several core-worlders, people who have  _ actual _ influence and she thinks she can finally push past the frequent anxiety she has been feeling. The problem is, she doesn’t agree with anything her ‘friends’ say. Instead, she lives in constant fear of slipping up, of saying something that will anger them in some way or form. Every day, she performs the charade of Senator Chuchi: a proud loyalist, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

These people, her ‘friends’, are nothing like her. They hate clones, first of all. Truly detest them. They laugh at them, tease them in public, openly ridicule them - telling them they need to stand at attention straighter. Once, a trooper moved to scratch his arm and Bibbeck requested the trooper’s number to report to the Commander. The plastoid-covered man stood stick straight for the rest of the meeting while Chuchi silently cringed. She may still doubt their sentiency, but she doesn’t think they need to be abused in such a manner. 

Secondly, as proud members of the loyalist committee - something Riyo can’t bring herself to  _ actually _ join, despite the insistence of her ‘friends’ - they blindly support Chancellor Palpatine. Riyo is loyal to the Republic, that much is true, but she has her doubts about how Chancellor Palpatine handles his affairs. He wasn’t even properly elected; he was pushed into power after declaring no confidence in the previous chancellor. What happened to the democracy that he claimed to love? 

Finally, they support the war fully. Riyo isn’t quite certain where she stands on the war. The Separatists need to be stopped, but at what cost? Civilians across the galaxy keep getting caught in the middle. They are being forced into embargos and dying in the crossfire. Why does there have to be just  _ one _ galactic government? Why can’t the planets who want to join the Separatists, join them, and the Republic and Separatists sign a peace treaty to never infringe upon the other’s systems? Not everything needs to be solved with a blaster. 

But there is nothing she can do, not really. She is just one woman from one small moon whose only exports are gold, rice and yunchki fruits. What is one voice in a cacophony of a thousand others? 

So every day, she dons her mask and swallows her own moral objections, doubts, and hopes for peace. The most she can do is try and rub elbows with these people and hope for the best… the problem is that it just becomes so taxing. Day after day, pretending to be someone else, pretending to  _ agree  _ with these people. She feels as if she is drowning. As she trudges to yet another committee meeting, she gets stuck in the elevator with a clone - not just any clone, Commander Fox, she realizes. 

“Good morning,” she greets, hopeful. It seems odd, but the only time she has really been happy, or close to happy, on Coruscant has been when she is talking to the Commander. Even if he is  _ slightly _ terrifying. 

“Senator,” he nods. 

“How are you?” she asks.

“I’m fine, ma’am. And yourself?”

She tries not to feel hurt by the iciness in his tone, but she supposes that she deserves it. She breaks bread with the people who bully his men. “I... I’m doing okay. I actually remembered to eat breakfast this morning,” she finishes lamely. The last time she had really seen him, he had given her his ration bar. 

“That’s good, ma’am,” he states and the doors slide open. 

They are greeted by her ‘friends’ and immediately she wants to sink into the floor. She tucks herself away, plastering on a fake smile. They welcome her to the group with kisses to her cheeks and she feels sick. It all feels so fraudulent, like she is slithering into a snake’s skin whenever she’s with them only to shed it when she is alone. 

What has she become? 

When did she sacrifice her beliefs just to fit in? 

~

The committee meeting was going about as mind-numbingly as it could be going. There is nothing terribly exciting about agricultural politics. That is, until she hears pops like firecrackers from outside their meeting hall. She thinks nothing of it at first, until Commander Fox is charging to the door, locking it. “Everyone! I need you to stay calm. We will be executing safety protocol 12A from your security briefing!”

Everyone chatters frightfully and Bibbeck roars, “No one reads your security briefings, clone!”

She does. 

She did. 

When it becomes painfully clear that nobody is going to listen to him. She rushes over to the rear exit. The commander is already working his way there through the herd of terrified senators. “Everyone!” She calls. Nobody listens to her, either. Climbing up on a chair she shouts once more, “Everyone! Listen up!” 

Commander Fox glances up to her, but she pays him little attention as adrenaline courses through her veins. She has always hated public speaking, ironic, she knows, given her profession. “Commander Fox needs our utmost cooperation. He will be able to escort us safely to a bunker.”

“He’s just a clone!” Someone chimes up, Bibbeck, if she has to take a guess. 

“And we are just senators. What do we know of this?”

They fall silent. 

Riyo steps from her chair. “The floor is yours, Commander.”

“Alright, everyone. I need you to stick together and move swiftly towards Bunker 2B. Senator Chuchi will lead the way there.”

Her heart lurches. She  _ what _ ? When did she become a clone commander?

“I will cover our flank, lay down cover fire if needed.” Explosions sound outside and everyone stirs. No one is going to question him now. He turns to her, and she is made very aware of how tall he is. She had noticed this characteristic once, but she has never stood this close to a clone before. He towers over her completely and she cranes her neck to look at his visor. “Do you know where you’re going, senator?” He asks softly. 

“Yes. I read the security briefing and emergency procedures.”

He nods and she likes to think he is smiling, even though there is no sign of such in his mannerisms. “Very good.” He turns back to everyone else and, at the volume of a Commander who has ordered troops around for most of his life, shouts. “On the count of three everyone exit through this door. Stick with Senator Chuchi. One.” Everyone begins moving, pushing towards the door. “Two.” Her heart has taken up residence in her throat and she can actively feel her pulse quickening. “Three! Go! Go! Go!” She leads the stampede into the hall and hesitates for a second. Does she know where she is going? Commander Fox should really be doing this. 

_ No _ . He has entrusted her and she  _ will  _ lead the senators to safety. 

Behind her she hears blaster rounds firing off and another explosion. 

If her heart wasn’t in her throat already, it definitely would be now. “Hurry, this way!” She calls as she leads them down another hall to the stairwell. They could take a lift, but something in her gut is telling her to not. Winding down the stairs she reaches the bunker levels and escorts the senators into 2B. It is plain, thick durasteel and duracrete, meant to protect them from the most persistent of bounty hunters. Everyone files in, but the Commander is not bringing up the rear. 

She grabs the last senator, whose name she cannot remember, and asks, “Where is the Commander?”

“I dunno. There was an explosion.”

Her heart plummets from her throat all the way into her stomach. “Everyone stay here until another commander comes for you,” she announces. “It will most likely be Commander Thire.”

“Where are you going?” Bibbeck barks. 

“To find Commander Fox.”

Not waiting to hear his response, she whips back around and charges up the stairs. She feels defenseless and suddenly wishes she had a blaster. During the summers on Pantora, when she was on break from the university, she would stay with her parents on their farm. There, she and her father would use stun rounds to blast the critters that would tear up their rice fields. Now, she sneaks weaponless through the eerily quiet, abandoned halls of the senate building. Not a single round of blasterfire can be heard and she begins to fear that whoever came here got what they wanted. 

Rounding a corner, she finds Commander Fox, leaning up against the wall, behind an overturned table, looking very much on the brink of death. “Commander!” She rushes to his side, falling to her knees. “Commander, are you still with me?”

“Unfortunately,” he hisses. 

She decides she will address that comment later. “Are - where are you injured?”

His helmet tilts down and she notes blaster scorch marks on his abdomen, but a more troublesome bloody wound at his thigh. She swallows down the bile that rises in her throat. There’s  _ blood _ . He is  _ bleeding _ . A realization slams into her like a speeder into a durasteel wall. He is  _ human _ . He is  _ bleeding _ . Clones can  _ bleed _ and feel pain. 

“I- I need to get this armor plate off,” she blurts.

“Senator, I have to insist that you get to safety.”

“Only if you come with me,” she declares. 

He looks from his leg, to her and back to his leg. “I’m a little immobile at the moment, ma’am.”

“Then help me get this plate off. We have to stop the bleeding.”

“Ma’am. I must insist-”

“I swear to all the stars and moons in this galaxy, if you do not help me right now I will drag you to the bunker myself.”

With a sigh, he magically unclips the thigh plate. Despite his injury, his movement had been too deft, too well-practiced, for her to observe how it was done. The bile rises in her throat once more. It's a nasty blaster burn. The fabric of his black undersuit is seared to his skin and the skin that wasn’t instantly cauterized is bleeding. It looks like he nicked something important. Wordlessly, she whips off her belt that had been purely decorative from around her waist. The commander’s helmet reveals none of his emotions, but she can feel his surprise when she gently slips her belt under his leg and uses it as a tourniquet. It barely wraps all the way around him and when she synches it tightly, he grunts.

“There. That should slow the bleeding,” she finishes. 

From behind the table, they hear an intruder and Fox rockets to his feet, firing off a few rounds. Riyo, despite her flashfire bravery, ducks behind the table, hands over her ears. When the opposition’s blasting ceases suddenly, Fox crashes down behind the table with a clattering of plastoid plates and a violent curse. 

“Are you alright?” She shouts. Live fire is much louder than she remembers it being. 

He nods. “The area is secure, ma’am.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she growls but his head lolls back against the wall he has once again propped himself against. “Commander?” She nudges him. “Commander?”

His right vambrace chirps and he doesn’t move to answer it. 

“Fox?” She shakes him but he only groans. Fearing the worst, she presses the blinking button.

“Commander, what is your status?”

“Hi, yes, uh,” she begins. “This is Senator Chuchi. I’m with Commander Fox, he’s been injured.”

“Ma’am!” The voice on the line sounds like he is snapping to attention. “Do you need a medevac?”

“I’m fine, but the Commander is in dire need of medical attention. How soon can you get a medic to our position?”

“As soon as possible, ma’am. Please seek shelter.”

“I will stay with Commander Fox if it is all the same.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She takes his hand up in her own. He’s warm and alive. It surprises her, she realizes. For all the footage she has seen, of all the lives she has seen clones take, she had thought them to be cold. He is a living, breathing being - someone who bleeds and, by the way he was cursing earlier, feels.

“Stay with me, Commander,” she pleads, squeezing his hand. 

~

Riyo waits not so patiently at the landing pad for her not so new assistant. On Pantora, Ilona had helped her run and organize her campaign for senator. Now, she will be her aid and Riyo is indescribably excited. After weeks of feeling alone on Coruscant, she knows she will finally have someone in her corner. Glancing at her chrono, she just wishes that she would get here a little faster. 

She and Ilona had grown up together in the marshes of Pantora. They had been inseparable and, probably much to his dismay, her older brother’s shadow. He had inspired them both to go to law school, he had been their role model, their best friend. 

Shaking away those thoughts, Riyo glances at her chrono once more. Barely a minute has passed and she begins to weigh her options. She  _ must  _ welcome Ilona, that part isn’t up for debate, but she would also very much like to visit Commander Fox in the medbay. Her mind has been made up and she is not certain if an entire legion of bounty hunters could deter her now. He got injured for her safety, there is nothing she can do to repay that, but she is certainly going to try. 

The sleek Pantoran ship lands and the ramp lowers with a hydraulic hiss. Riyo can’t help the smile that blooms on her face when she sees her dear friend. Ilona is a Minarek; so instead of double arches tattooed on both cheeks, she has two long thin lines tattooed on both sides of her face spanning from her hairline to her jawline. She is both tall and modelesque and, not for the first time in their decades long friendship, Riyo wonders why their roles are not reversed. Ilona looks much more like a world leader than she could ever aspire to look. 

She supposes that Ilona would have been, had things turned out differently.

“Ri’chka!” Ilona squeals when she sees her, pulling her into a warm embrace. “How are you? It is  _ so _ lovely to see you!” 

Riyo smiles. “It is wonderful to see you too. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to cut this reunion short.”

Ilona gasps, “Is this about what I saw on the holonet? Were you truly attacked?”

Riyo nods. “Yes. I’m going to visit the Commander who saved my life in the medbay.”

Ilona scrunches up her nose as if the whole idea smells foul. “ _ Why _ ?”

“He got injured protecting us. I want to express my gratitude.”

Ilona’s face does not uncrinkle. “But that’s their  _ job _ . Ri’chka, sweetie, they don’t  _ care _ about you.” She rests a hand on her shoulder. Riyo thinks it's probably meant to seem as comforting, but she finds it insulting. 

“But  _ I _ care,” Riyo protests, shrugging off Ilona’s hand. In rapid fire succession, the memories of all the times she stood by, mute, flash before her eyes. “Or I want to anyway.”

“ _ Why _ ?” Ilona repeats. 

“Because if I don’t, who will?” 

A smile spreads across Ilona’s face. “There’s my Ri’chka. That’s why you are our senator.”

This time, Riyo accepts Ilona’s arm around her. With another quick glance at the time, Riyo briskly escorts her new aid to the Pass and ID office to get her the proper access cards. 

~

In the medbay, Fox groggily blinks awake. Glancing around, his eyes fall upon a medic reviewing the machines and making notes on a datapad. “Hey, trooper.” Said trooper snaps to attention and looks at him. “What’s my prognosis?” Fox asks.

“Two days of bedrest, sir. Took a blaster bolt to the thigh. Nicked your artery. If the Senator hadn’t wrapped you up, you’d have bled out, sir.”

Fox sighs. “What’s your name?”

“CT-98-4232, sir.”

“Your name, kid.”

“I-I don’t have one yet, sir. Just transferred from Kamino.”

“Welcome to Coruscant, then.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You're dismissed, trooper.”

Not having to be told twice, the kid scurries out of the room, leaving Fox with just the beeping of the machines behind him and the pungent smell of bacta on his wounds. 

Senator Chuchi came back for him. 

He remembers her holding his hand. 

Why had she come back for him? He’s just a clone. Her friends certainly gave him and his men a hard enough time. They doubted them, they ridiculed them, they reported them for improper behavior when they hadn’t done anything wrong. He nearly lost his temper the day one of his shinies came back shaken to the core. Apparently they had tripped him and kicked him when he tried to scramble up. 

Thire had to physically hold him back, again, from razing the entire Senate Hall and killing every one of those bastards who had thought it was okay to lay a hand on his little brothers. He had thought that Senator Chuchi had been different, that she actually believed in human _ fucking _ decency, but he had been wrong. She sat idly by while her friends openly laughed and ridiculed him and his men. 

Or at least, he had thought he was wrong. 

When she had come barreling around the corner, looking like a spooked tooka, he had thought he was hallucinating. 

But she came back for him. 

He hadn’t been hallucinating. 

In the committee hall, she had called the senators to silence so that he could speak. She had read his security briefing. Braver than any senator he had ever met before, she had led them to safety so that he could engage the bounty hunters at the rear, providing them cover fire. 

Some good he did at that. 

There is a knock at the door and he calls, “Come in.”

Who he expects to see is the head medic, who is actually there is Senator Riyo Chuchi, looking small and timid.

“Senator,” he tries to shift straighter, but his leg is mostly dead weight at the moment. 

“Please, at ease, Commander. I am here purely for social reasons,” she enters and he notices a large tote bag held in front of her. 

“Ma’am?” he asks. 

Clearing her throat slightly, she squares her shoulders and speaks clearly. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology, Commander.”

An  _ apology _ ? She just saved his life. 

“Ma’am, that’s really not necessary.”

She holds up a hand and any further protests he had die upon his lips. 

“I’ve been positively awful to you and I would like to apologize. The senators I have chosen to associate myself with are… unkind at best and cruel at worst. The things they have said to you are downright horrendous and I sat idly by, not even raising my voice to defend you.” She takes a deep breath and begins again. “The reason I became a Senator was to be the voice for those who have none and I am sorry. I am sorry I didn’t stand up for you or your men. I am sorry I let myself believe the stereotypes and I only hope that you can accept my apology and that we may begin anew.”

He knows his mouth is hanging agape, but his brain is still struggling to catch up with him. “I’m… just a clone, ma’am. You… don’t need to apologize.”

She winces as if he struck her. “I’m afraid I do, because clone or not you still hurt and bleed and  _ feel  _ things. I have been a terrible person and I can only imagine how my behavior has affected you.”

“It’s fine, ma’am. I… uh… if you feel so strongly about it, your apology is accepted. No harm done.” 

She beams and Fox’s heart stutters. He did that? He made her smile? 

“Excellent. In that case,” she steps towards him, extending a hand. “My name is Riyo Chuchi.”

Hesitating, he takes her hand. Her skin is soft and smooth and he very much wishes he was wearing his armor, his gloves - literally anything but just a hospital gown. “Fox.”

“Well, Fox, I hate medbays. They are possibly the worst place to be, especially alone and cold. So,” she rests her bag on his gurney. “I have brought you a few things to pass the time. I have a couple datapads with word searches, holonet articles, and a movie. I… don’t know what you do in your free time. I also have a bag of sweets and a blanket.”

“Ma’am, this is… really unnecessary. I’m only going to be here for two days. I’ll need to catch up on paperwork.”

“Oh.”

Gods almighty, she looks like he shot her tooka-cat. 

“But I am grateful, ma’am. I… uh… don’t get much freetime. Recovery just means time to catch up on paperwork.”

Her golden eyes widen with shock. “You don’t have freetime?”

Slowly, he shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Well then I simply must insist that we do a crossword puzzle together.” She abandons her bag and pulls up the chair that had been against the wall. 

“What? Why?” He asks. 

“Because I have an hour until my next engagement, I will be preoccupied for the rest of your recovery time, and I have nothing else I would rather be doing. You saved our lives, Fox, at least let me provide you an hour of entertainment.”

“Ma’am I-”

“Riyo.”

“Ma’am-”

“Fox, I really must insist that you call me Riyo, I’m not a senator right now… I’m a concerned citizen.”

“Regulations state I would still have to call you ma’am… ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes. “Then I am a friend. What do you call your friends?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘ma’am’?” A small smile tugs at his lips and she reaches like she may smack his arm, but then decides against it. 

“No, I absolutely would not.” She settles further into the chair, stylus and datapad in hand. “So… what is a five-lettered word for a new trooper?”. 

“Shiny… Ma’,” he catches himself. “Riyo?”

She looks up from her crossword. 

“Thank you… for saving my life.”

“And thank you for saving mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THINGS ARE HAPPENING!! Thank you all so much for you continued support! <33


	4. Trespass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is mostly a re-telling of the episode "Trespass". However I did add some other stuff to try and spice it up, so it is not just a re-reading of the episode transcript.

“The Republic Outpost on Orto Plutonia has been unresponsive for three standard days,” General Kenobi begins. Senator Chuchi stands at her desk with a holo projection of Generals Kenobi and Skywalker along with Chairman Cho of Pantora. “General Skywalker and myself would like to scout the area with a small battalion of troopers.”

“If you are to do that, then Senator Chuchi and myself must be in attendance as the planet is a territory of Pantora,” says Chairman Cho, the elected leader of Pantora.

“Of course, Chairman. Senator Chuchi, how soon can you be to the outer rim?” General Kenobi asks.

“If I leave tonight after the general assembly, I can be there in a standard day, General.”

“Excellent, we will wait for your arrival, Senator.”

The holograms all wink out and Riyo crashes into her desk chair. She had a somewhat important committee meeting the day after next, but she will have to cancel her attendance at those… and let Commander Fox know since he prepares the briefings. 

_Wait._

She has an assistant now. 

“Ilona,” Riyo calls, emerging from her office. 

Her friend falls in. “Yes?”

“Would you be alright attending all of my meetings for the next couple days? Take notes and act as my representative?”

“Of course!” 

“Excellent, then I am going to go inform Commander Fox of the change in meeting attendance.”

“May I ask why you can’t just send him a message? And may I also ask _why_ I am attending your meetings?”

Riyo pauses. Why couldn’t she just send him a message? She mostly just wanted to advise him in person, but also she is hungry and thought she could grab food on the way. He had really appreciated her cookies once before, perhaps he would appreciate lunch as well. “I’m going to Orto Plutonia to supervise the search of a radio silent outpost.”

Ilona frowns. “That sounds terribly dangerous.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m meeting two Jedi.”

Riyo can tell that Ilona has something else to say, but chooses not to ask. Her stomach is rumbling and she has a Commander to see. She just hopes that she will be able to catch the Commander on his lunch break, if he has those. She wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. 

Snatching her shawl and wallet, she tosses a farewell over her shoulder before Ilona can protest, and marches out of her office. Outside of the Senate Hall there are several street vendors that make an obscene profit from ravenous senators. Luckily, she knows exactly to which vendor she is going. He seldom has a line, but his street sandwiches taste so much like a Pantoran pita that she can’t help but indulge herself once in a while. If Fox liked her cookies perhaps he would also like a twist on a Pantoran staple? 

There is only one way to find out. 

~

Sack of food in her hand, she walks up to the Coruscant Guard office and doesn’t hesitate to open the door this time. The same trooper - well, it could very well be a different trooper, they all look so similar - is standing behind the desk. 

“Yes, I realize that you believe Count Dooku is at the mall, ma’am, but I’m afraid that is simply not the case.” He is silent for a moment and rolls his eyes. “No ma’am, I am not deaf. Yes ma’am, I can hear you just fine. No ma’am, you do not need to yell.” He puts his hand over the receiver of his headset. “How can I help you today, Senator?”

“I’m looking for Commander Fox?” She asks. 

He nods. “He should be in his office. If he’s not, he’s already left for prison duty.”

“Thank you…?” she trails off with a question, indirectly asking for his name. 

“Fort, ma’am.”

“Nice to meet you, Fort. I will… let you get back to your call.”

He nods and removes his hand from the receiver. “No ma’am, I promise I am listening very intently to what you’re saying…”

She wanders down the hall and knocks politely on Fox’s door. Her stomach churns with anxiety and she stamps it down, forcing herself to remember that being alone with a clone is not dangerous. Commander Fox has been nothing but polite to her. He even seemed grateful when she visited him in the medbay. 

“Come in.”

With one final, reassuring inhale she does. He is sitting at his desk scribbling something on a datapad and, when he finally looks up from his datapad, he stands. “Senator.”

“Good afternoon, Commander. I brought lunch.”

He stares at her blankly and blinks a few times. “Lunch?”

“Yes, do you eat lunch?” She moves to sit in the guest chair across from his desk. It is a dreadful looking thing, the chair. It is deep orange and plastoid and when she sits she becomes very aware that one leg is significantly shorter than all of the rest.

“Yes, I mean,” he sits when she does. “I’m supposed to, anyway.”

“Well, then let’s eat. Unfortunately, this isn’t purely a social visit.”

“No?” he asks. 

“No. I will be leaving for Orto Plutonia after the General Assembly. I’m not certain how long I will be. Perhaps two or three standard days? I wanted to let you know, as you prepare the security briefings, that my assistant will be filling in for me. If you could, I would greatly appreciate it if you could send the meeting security briefings to her.”

He nods. “Thank you. I can do that and I’ll get an escort ready for you as soon as possible.”

She hands him his container of food with a shake of her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be meeting with Generals Kenobi and Skywalker. I believe with two Jedi I will be very safe.”

He opens his container and investigates the pita with a neutral face. “Why are you meeting two attack battalions on a planet by your moon?”

“The Republic Outpost has gone radio silent for too long. The Generals want to investigate but they cannot without both myself and our chairman.”

His head snaps up. “You’re going to investigate a radio silent outpost?” 

“Well, I won’t be doing any of the investigating. I will merely be there to make sure no laws are broken.”

He grimaces. “That hardly sounds safe, we should send you with an escort.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. How is your leg, by the way?” She suppresses the urge to reach across the desk and touch him. She wants to let him know that she is grateful for his concern and that she is also concerned for his safety, but she doesn’t know how to go about doing so. Most species, Pantorans included, relay this emotion through physical touch. However, clones were raised to be warriors and she’s not certain if a gentle touch holds the same connotation. 

“Healed.” He picks up the pita, investigating it from all angles. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, Senator.”

“I would certainly hope not, Commander.” It’s true. There aren’t many people on Coruscant that Riyo considers a friend and the Commander is slowly slipping into that role, even if she is uncertain how to behave around him. His dry sarcasm never fails to at least make her crack a smile.

“What is this, if I may ask?” He inquires. 

“A twist on a traditional Pantoran dish. It’s not too heavily spiced. I don’t know how much spice you’re used to.”

He eyes her. “You’ve had what I eat on a daily basis. It’s as bland as Senator Dell’s speeches.”

She snorts. “Wow. That’s bad if even you find them bland.”

A small smile curves the edge of his lips and hides it by taking a bite. “Wow. This is. Wow.”

She grins. “You like it?”

He nods. “I’m never going to be able to eat another ration bar again.”

They eat in silence for a few moments before he says, “I never got to thank you, for coming to visit me in the medbay. Would you like your things back?”

She shakes her head. “No. Keep them. If you happen to have a free moment, perhaps you can finish the crossword we started.”

He blushes. “Maybe.”

He looks like maybe he is going to say something else, but refrains. She wishes he hadn’t. 

~

_CC-1010 has opened chat with CT-7567_

_CC-1010_ : Rex, word is you're going to Orto Plutonia?

 _CT-7567_ : Yeah, outpost isn’t responding. How are things on Coruscant?

 _CC-1010_ : Some days are better than others. I need to ask you a favor. 

_CT-7567_ : I figured as much. What can I do for you, brother?

 _CC-1010_ : Senator Chuchi is going to be riding along on this mission to observe legality. Can you keep an eye out for her? She’s one of the good ones. 

_CT-7567_ : A good senator? Damn. What did she do?

 _CC-1010_ : She saved my life. 

_CT-7567_ : I’ll keep an eye out for her. Don’t worry. 

_CC-1010_ : Thanks. I owe you. 

~

Riyo has never liked Chairman Cho. She finds his opinions to be belligerent and his policies aggressive. As they enter the outpost together, she notes that her opinions have not changed over time; he is still belligerent and possibly more aggressive as they take in the scene. She averts her eyes, not wanting to see the amount of death smeared throughout the facility. 

Luckily - she thinks luckily, but she has a feeling it has nothing to do with luck at all - there isn’t a terrible smell of decomposition. The subzero temperatures of the hostile planet have kept the bodies of the fallen men somewhat preserved. As some of the troopers of the 501st carry out the dead, she can only watch helplessly. She has never felt so utterly useless. Even as she uses the fullest extent of her overpriced law degree as a legal advisor and Senator, she just wants to do something to ease this burden. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asks a trooper. 

“No ma’am. We have everything under control,” he says with a stiff nod. 

“Right,” she says and paces the expanse of the window. The snow is coming down heavily, and while she is safe from the raging storm outside, she does not feel the same safety from her own mind. There are so many dead troopers, she notes as she takes in her surroundings. Her mind flashes to Fox, to the day they were attacked. His armor had been scorched by the blaster fire, leaving a charred streak on his otherwise white armor. None of these troopers feature similar markings. She knows from the security briefings that droids use blasters, sometimes detonations. 

So why are there no blaster burns?

Why are there no dead droids?

Only dead men. 

Her stomach lurches and she looks away and back out into the blinding white of the blizzard. They have no families to miss them, to mourn them. They were just numbers in a sea of identical faces. Unwillingly, her mind floats to her parents and how easily it would be to slip over into Pantora to pay them a visit before she leaves. But then she would have to miss more meetings and right now, her duty needs to come first. 

Speaking of duty, behind her Chairman Cho is ordering around the troopers. She turns to him and asks, “Chairman, what makes you so certain that the Separatists are behind this attack?”

“Look around, Senator,” he spits her title as if it is filthy. “Isn’t this carnage proof enough?”

“I know,” she begins. “But there are no dead droids here, no blast marks. The clone’s injuries were not consistent with--” 

“So, you’re an expert on war now, are you, Senator?” He interjects. 

“No Chairman,” she forces herself to meet his eyes. “No I only--”

“Let me tell you something, Senator. I have lead our people since before you were born. I’ve seen a hundred planets rise and fall through the force of arms. If it is not the separatists out there, then it is a malevolent and aggressive enemy nonetheless and I will not let whoever it is jeopardize the security of the people of Pantora.”

“But if the Jedi discover that the Separatists are not behind this, then perhaps there is a peaceful resolution.”

“Senator, I am willing to fight and die for my people. It’s time to ask yourself if you are brave enough to do the same.” He growls before turning and storming off. 

Riyo slowly closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath. 

~

“Are you okay, Senator?” 

Riyo is sitting on a crate watching the men of the 501st scurry around. Next to her, however, is the Captain. Everyone is comically bundled, including him, and she is silently grateful for her Pantoran tolerance to cold temperatures. 

“Yes, Captain, thank you for asking. I simply have a lot on my mind.”

He nods slowly. “Do you… need to talk about it?”

She smirks and glances over at him. She doesn’t need to see his face to know that he feels terribly awkward, like he’s not used to speaking so openly with a Senator, but is willing to brave his own discomfort for her. “It’s just something the Chairman said, perhaps you can help me make sense of it.”

“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

“He asked if I was brave enough to die for my people… and I would. I would die for them, but I just… don’t think that is the best way to go about things.”

He hums with thought and asks, “Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

“Of course, Captain.”

“In my experience, a dead leader is pretty useless.”

She snorts. “I suppose you’re right. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with, ma’am?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, Captain. Put me to work. Idle hands do nothing for a racing mind.”

“Well,” he begins just as the Generals return. “You’ll have to excuse me, Senator.”

“Of course, no worries.”

~

Chairman Cho is going to start a war. As she climbs into the speeder, she can only think about the discussion that happened moments ago. According to both Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, the Talz are a peaceful group of… creatures who had gotten caught up in a battle with droids and therefore destroyed the Republic outpost. They truly meant no harm and only want to move forward in peace 

But Chairman Cho hadn’t seen it that way. He had deemed the Talz no more than animals - savages. She had protested, only to be spoken over and ignored. According to Senate Legislation 18001-17c within the Convention of Civilized Systems, sentiency is to be determined by the Senate. And if the Talz were able to communicate with the Generals, then their status of sentiency is in doubt. Plain and simple. Beings that can communicate may not be fully sentient, but they _can_ be either semi-sentient or sub-sentient, which means they would have rights to this land as their own. 

So when the Chairman irately begins to address the Tal Chieftain in his own home, Riyo has no choice but to intervene. She steps in between the two, both of them towering over her. The chieftain being absolutely terrifying. He is large, furry, with four eyes and the strangest looking mouth she has ever seen. “Would you like me to represent Pantora in this matter?” She pleads. 

“Not on your life, Senator.” Chairman Cho shoves her away and gets in the Chieftain's face. “There will be no diplomacy this time. Listen here, you _savage_. This world belongs to the moon of Pantora, and as the Supreme Chairman and Exalted Ruler of Pantora, you will not command me to leave this planet, or do anything else.”

She doesn’t even need to swallow her fear to step back up to her chairman, “Your Majesty, we _can’t_ .” This is wrong. This is all so wrong. These beings are _clearly_ sentient in some regard and he is treating them like garbage. 

He is treating them like clones. 

Chairman Cho shrugs her off once more and orders the golden droid to translate for him. She feels nauseous. She’s going to puke. 

“Oh dear,” says the droid. 

_Oh dear_ , indeed. 

~

Her head is swimming. The chairman has declared war and then declared said war an official matter of Pantora, meaning that the Jedi can no longer intervene - she can hardly intervene as a galactic senator. Sure, she may have legislative power in the Senate, but on Pantora she is nothing more than a figure head. 

Skywalker, with the delicacy that of a bantha in a china shop, demands, “Senator, you know a preemptive strike is illegal. Isn’t there anything you can do to stop it?”

As if she hasn’t already been scouring the insides of her mind, searching for one _legal_ way to prevent this war, she answers, “I’m afraid not. He has proclaimed this conflict an internal affair.”

“You could petition the Jedi Council for an intervention,” General Kenobi suggests, a pensive hand placed over his beard. The bitter wind of Orto Plutonia whips around them, ruffling both of the Jedi’s hoods as they look to her expectantly. 

She is aghast, “You mean _without_ his authorization?” No, she cannot just step over her Majesty’s head and find someone to veto his declaration. Even if he is in the wrong, there are some protocols that one cannot just elect to ignore. 

“There must be someone on your moon who could approve it.” General Skywalker sounds nearly as desperate as she feels. 

Rapid fire, she searches through every member of their government. Someone. There has to be someone. “The Speaker of the Assembly. He has the power,” she blurts, having remembered the one article that states that when calling the Chairman out of order the speaker, and only the speaker has the ability to do so. 

She just has to present her case. 

~

Riyo feels sick and she begins to think that this entire trip will just be one perpetual wave of nausea. The Speaker has granted her permission to essentially stage a coupe and the Jedi will not help her speak to the Talz, despite the fact that they are to be peacekeepers and one of them has quite literally been dubbed the “Negotiator”. General Kenobi, in all his sage wisdom, had declared it her responsibility. He’s technically not wrong, but she doesn’t have the experience of negotiating treaties with a species that doesn’t speak the same language as her. She’s not familiar with their culture, just that they want peace. 

When she steps from the gunship, she nearly vomits upon seeing all of the dead troopers. This. This is the result of her Chairman’s recklessness. Lives. Lives of good men who wanted nothing other than to serve their Republic and return home to see their friends. An inextinguishable fire licks at her insides as she trudges through the bloodied snow to her injured Chairman. This behavior is unacceptable. 

“Senator. Good. You must avenge me. As my final command as Chairman of Pantora, I order you to destroy the Talz.”

No. There will be no destruction on her watch. “I’m afraid I cannot do that Chairman. The Pantoran Assembly has called you out of order. I am to negotiate peace,” she declares, the fire inside of her crackling to escape. How dare he order the destruction of a species? How dare he assume that their lives are so meaningless? 

“No. Impossible! Peace? Never! I died for our people,” he sputters with his last, wheezing breath. 

_Good_. 

Removing the Chairman’s hat, emblazoned with the Pantoran crest, and taking up one of the Talz spears that nearly doubles her height, she beckons the protocol droid to follow her. The Chieftain meets her halfway and she sucks in one more calming breath. 

30 seconds of courage. 

She throws the spear down into the ice and begins, “To die for one’s people is a great sacrifice. To live for one’s people, an even greater sacrifice,” she places the hat on top of the spear. “I choose to live for my people. What do you choose?”

The Chieftain raises his spear and Riyo refuses to look away. If she is going to be struck down, she is going to watch - she is going to make this being watch as their last hope of peace drains from her eyes. 

The spear pierces the ice, crossing hers. 

Peace has been declared. 

Letting out a shaky exhale, she says, with much more confidence, “We will leave Orto Plutonia under the watchful eyes of the Talz from this day forth, and recognize your sovereignty as a free and equal people.”

~

That night, aboard the Venator, speeding back to Coruscant, she writes to her mother. 

_Momma,_

_I know it has been a while since I’ve written to you. I hope I have not worried you. It’s just… I had to find myself. I’ve spent the past few months trying to fit in. Today, I prevented a war and was reminded of why I became a Senator. I want to help people, and I know now that I can. I shall not hide behind the masks people expect to be seen by a small Pantoran Senator. From today onward, I will be unabashedly myself because I am proud to be who I am and, as naive as it sounds, I believe that I can change the galaxy._

_Hugs and Kisses,_

_Ri’chka_

~

Riyo steps off the shuttle and scrunches her nose at the stagnant Coruscant air. Having been on Orto Plutonia for two days, she got used to the clear atmosphere and the cool climate. Now, she feels both smothered and suffocated. As quickly as she can manage, she sets down her suitcase and strips off her shawl and sweater, leaving her in just a tanktop and her hiking pants. 

“Senator?” A strangled question comes from behind her. 

She whirls around, nearly kicking over her suitcase. “Oh Commander Fox, how are you today?” She smiles. 

He nods in response to her question before asking one of his own. “May I ask why you are stripping on the tarmac, ma’am?”

She blushes. “It’s hot. I… got used to the temperature of Orto Plutonia and was not dressed appropriately for Coruscant weather. I should be fine by tomorrow.” 

He nods slowly again, and she can only imagine the positively flabbergasted expression under his helmet. She blushes. She should have waited until she was home to undress, but it is terribly stuffy and she _had_ thought she was alone. 

“So your trip was a success then?” He asks. 

“Well if by success you mean several good men died, including the Chairman of Pantora, then yes. It was a success.”

“I’m glad you’ve made it back safely then.”

She smiles. “Yes me too… May I take you up on that escort now?”

His head cocks to the side. 

“I’m walking to my apartment and… I would appreciate some company.”

“I can do one better,” he says and continues his trek to a speeder parked on the side of the tarmac. “Would you like a ride?”

She doesn’t think twice before tossing her suitcase in the back seat. 

~

He feels incredibly stupid, offering to give her a ride. Once she jumps into the passenger’s seat, though, his stomach twists into a kind of nervousness he hasn’t experienced since he was a cadet. He shouldn’t trust her, she’s a _senator_. If he has learned anything since he was stationed on this hell hole it is that senators are liars and nothing on Coruscant is free. 

Yet, as they speed through the golden glow of the setting sun, nothing has felt freer. She smiles as she regales him with stories from her adventure - stories that he has already heard from Rex, apparently the Chairman was a real asshole - and she talks about how free she feels now. She talks about how working with the Talz made her realize that she is a good senator, and not one of the sleemos with whom she has been spending most of her time. 

The entire time they fly, Fox manages to steal a few glances at her and every time he is struck by how _beautiful_ she is. And not the kind of beautiful that a clone takes into the bathroom at 79s. No, her smile radiates warmth. Her deep blue skin glistens in the light. Whether her skin naturally glitters or if that is the faint sheen of sweat, he will never know, but he is caught by the sudden thought of _wanting_ to know. He wants to know her. He wants to hear more of her adventures and that, _that_ is a dangerous thought. 

So, he tucks it away and when she asks if he would like to come inside for a drink he politely declines, citing regulations that don’t exist. 

~

Riyo curls up in her armchair, glass of wine resting on the end table. On her datapad, she pulls up the benchmarks and testing required to declare sentiency. She tells herself that it is to help the Talz earn proper representation in the Senate. She tells herself that it is so that the Talz may receive Republic funding for infrastructure and new technology.

But as she reads the benchmarks and testing procedures, she doesn’t imagine those big, hairy creatures completing these tests, she imagines a certain group of identical men. There are three benchmarks, each of which requiring higher and higher scores. Firstly, there is non-sentient. Non-sentient beings are no better than livestock raised for slaughter and sold in the market. They have no ability to acquire sentient knowledge such as the ability to calculate hyper-speed jumps or learn another language. Semi-sentient or sub-sentient beings would be most like the Talz; they are still primitive but it can clearly be seen that they are intelligent. They can complete daily tasks, use tools and communicate with their brethren. Then there are full sentients, which are those that receive full representation in the Senate. What surprises her, however, is that droids are declared sentient. It catches her soul afire. How can living, breathing men not be sentient but hunks of metal can be? She looks into the benchmarks that must be completed in order to be declared fully sentient and receive representation in the Senate. 

  1. Ability to read and comprehend. 
  2. Ability to complete fundamental math. 
  3. Ability to understand and explain fundamental science. 
  4. Ability to complete a full interview where:
    1. Subject expresses ability to comprehend time and scheduling
    2. Subject expresses emotions of varying scales - anger, sadness, happiness. 
    3. Subject expresses empathy
    4. Subject expresses sympathy
    5. Subject expresses ability to comprehend and debate complex moral dilemmas
    6. Subject must, over all, express oral competency



She doesn’t know much about point four, but she knows for certain that a clone could complete points one through three and that is enough to earn them semi-sentience. She thinks about the implications of this and she thinks about how she could go about testing a group of clones. 

She knows one thing for certain, though. She needs new allies, better allies. She needs someone who has morals. 

She needs a people’s senator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! Words cannot express how I am excited for the rest of this fic!!


	5. Sticks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tread carefully, this chapter features more harassment from senators. I also added some more tags. Originally, I was going to bump it up to mature, but let me know what y'all think :3

It is Riyo’s first General Assembly meeting since Orto Plutonia and, in a way, she feels refreshed. Although her entire experience on the frozen planet had been nothing but fear and anxiety, it reminded her of one thing. 

She is strong enough to do this. 

To be a Senator. 

To still stand by her morals. 

She can’t believe she almost let herself slip into the cesspool that can be the Galactic Senate just to make a few friends - a few friends who she doesn’t even like. These people around her only care about themselves and their pocketbooks; she’s fairly certain none of them have ever done an honest day’s work, either. 

Adjusting her golden headpiece, she snatches up her jacket and makes her way to the Rotunda with renewed confidence. Mentally checking her to-do list as she walks - Ilona had sent her today’s meeting schedule and she is desperately trying to squeeze time for her own personal agenda into her day - she is completely oblivious to her surroundings, that is until she hears a clattering of plastoid plaits on permacrete. 

“Look at him! Can’t even walk right!” Someone jeers. 

Whipping around - headpiece chiming delicately - she sees a group of senators surrounding a clone. She doesn’t know much about clones, still, despite her few interactions with their Commander, but she does know one thing. They _aren’t_ unfeeling droids. And after her reading a few nights ago, she may even make the argument that they are sentient. Commander Fox is patient - he put up with questions from her for an entire afternoon without one complaint - selfless - he stayed back to ensure hers and her fellow senator’s safety the day they were attacked - and competent. Has anyone actually looked at his security briefings? They are works of art. The only thing that she hasn’t seen from him is his ability to express emotions. When she sees his face, he wears a carefully maintained expression of indifference. His brow is constantly furrowed, leaving a crease in the center of his forehead, and most of the time his jaw is clenched, holding his lips in a thin line. 

Schedule forgotten, she marches up to the group of bullies and steps between them and the clone splayed out on the permacrete. “Excuse you,” she interjects. “But don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“What’s up with you, Chuchi? Have a little crush on a _clone_?” One senator spits. 

Fixing her face into the fiercest glare she can muster, she growls, “No, I just think Senators should comport themselves with more dignity than you are expressing. Perhaps you should read the handbook on senatorial conduct once again.”

They all stop and cast each other concerned glances. She’s right. There is a Senatorial handbook; if Senators comport themselves in lewd fashions they have every right to be dismissed from office. Such inappropriate conduct includes, but is not limited to: solicitation, using illegal substances such as spice, using senate holonet access inappropriately, and discrimination or harrassment. Of course, the last one is intended towards fellow senators, but they obviously haven’t read a single line from the handbook. 

With a few mutterings, and huffs of hot air, they disperse and Riyo turns to the trooper too dumbstruck to stand. 

She offers her hand to him, “Are you okay, Trooper?”

He tentatively accepts and hauls himself to his feet. “Yeah, yeah, ma’am. I’m alright.”

She eyes his entirely white armor. He doesn’t even have the Coruscant Guard crest painted on his shoulder plates. “Are you new here?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I am. Just transferred from Kamino, ma’am.”

“May I ask your name?”

Settling into parade rest, he recites his number, “CT-9043, ma’am.”

“Do you have a name that you prefer?” She questions. “And no need to stand at attention. I’m just a curious bystander.” 

“Um, Yeah-Yeah, ma’am.”

“That’s a nice name. My name is Riyo,” she smiles. 

“Yeah… uh, yeah. Thanks, ma’am, nice to meet you.” He shifts his weight awkwardly. 

“Well,” she offers her hand once more and he accepts. “It was lovely to meet you Yeah-Yeah. My parting advice is to not let those bullies get to you. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.”

“You too, Senator.”

~

Sipping his caf and reading from a datapad - they’ve received new shipments of various Senatorial and Guard necessities - Fox walks into the shipping bay only to find a gaggle of shinies speaking animatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah! Then she offered to help me up and we stood and talked for a little while.”

“Yeah-Yeah, you’re full of banthashit. No way a Senator said that to you.”

“She did! She did! Man, I’m never going to wash this glove,” he holds his hand close to his chest plate.

“What’s going on here?” Fox asks, his attention having been piqued by the mention of a senator. 

All five of them snap up to attention, but none of them offer an explanation for their blatant disregard of inventory that needs counting. 

“Troopers, I believe I asked you a question.”

One shoves Yeah-Yeah, who tentatively steps forward. “Sir, I was, ah, telling the boys about a Senator I met today on patrol, sir.”

Fox arches an eyebrow, prompting the shiny to continue. 

“You see, uh, I was walking and then... I wasn’t. A senator tripped me, then kicked me, sir, and I, ah, I didn’t do anything! I remembered the briefing about not reacting in anger, yeah, so um, yeah. Then a Senator, she was real nice, Riyo? Yeah, yeah she said her name was Riyo. She yelled at those Senators and then helped me up, asked my name, and told me to have a wonderful day, sir.”

“I see,” Fox nods. There is a lot in that statement to work through, but right now is not the time. “Well, consider yourself lucky, Trooper. Now I need this inventory counted, logged, and stored properly by the end of the day. Get a move on.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” They shout and disperse. 

With one thing successfully checked off of his to-do list, Fox pulls up his next item, sipping his caf and trying to push Riyo Chuchi from his mind. He doesn’t know what to think about her. The logical part of his brain is screaming that she is a senator and senators are not to be trusted. Yet, he can’t help the way his lips tug up into a smile at the thought of her defending his men. Perhaps he was wrong about her. Perhaps she was as good and nice as he had originally thought. After all, she did come visit him while he was laid up in medbay and she had brought him lunch, too. 

After his handful of experiences with her, he should trust her. But that nagging voice in his head is enough to fill him with doubt. Why would she be so nice to him, if not for her own personal gain? There was once a Senator who tried to buy him off in order to turn a blind eye to his rather large shipments of spice being delivered to his senatorial chambers. Fox had arrested him; there is no bribe worth more than the safety of the Senate and the people of Coruscant. As much as Fox hates his job, he does take it seriously and that is why he is so suspicious about Senator Chuchi. 

Out of the blue, one day she just decided to apologize for her actions? Then she brings him food and defends his younger brothers? Something is afoot and he hasn’t quite put his finger on it yet. 

~

“What we need is more money!” 

“No, what we need is peace!” 

The debate of the general assembly has been going on for the better part of an hour. The war is already rapidly depleting the funds of the Republic, a fact everyone knows, but the solution is apparently much more illusive. Some propose a system-wide taxation of goods traded, others propose a hefty loan from the banking clan. Those who do not support the war, propose a peace treaty. Afterall, what is the _point_ of this war? If a planet wants to join a different government system that appeals more to their values, why does the Republic have to be the one to convince them, by _force_ , that they are making the wrong decision? 

The whole idea is just utter nonsense. As a diplomat, Riyo finds herself edging closer and closer to peace. Why should planets suffer blockades or mass loss of life simply because of a political agenda? It is her duty to protect those who do not have the power that she has been elected to hold. 

Suddenly, she wants to know everyone’s opinions of the war - not just the senators in the Rotunda, they are solely motivated by greed. No, she wants to know what citizens believe, and she wants to know what troopers believe. If there are enough negative views, then they as Senators must listen to their people and bring an end to this conflict. 

When the meeting is adjourned, Riyo shoves through the crowd of senators to try and get to Senator Amidala in the hallway. Of course, she is standing next to Senator Organa, another well-renowned Senator. 

“No, we do not _need_ an army,” she argues. 

“But what else will protect us from Dooku and his quest to rule the galaxy?” He returns. 

“We won’t need protection if we can declare _peace_.”

“Men like Dooku don’t want _peace_ , they want _power_.”

“Excuse me,” Riyo interjects, silently praying she isn’t being rude by interrupting. 

They both turn to her. “Senator Chuchi, right?” Senator Amidala smiles. 

“Yes, ma’am. I was hoping to talk to you about your position on GAR funding?” 

The senator visibly deflates. “Let me guess, you also want to tell me how I’m wrong and naive for believing in peace?” She shoots Senator Organa a look. 

“No, quite the opposite really,” she says. 

“Well,” she glares at Senator Organa one last time before hooking her arm around Riyo’s. “Tell me, what do you think?”

~

Fox confiscates the backpack filled with spice and a datapad containing several files of slaves for sale. “Who do you work for?” Fox asks, pinning the Zygerrian to the speeder. 

“Like I’ll tell you, separtist fodder,” he spits. 

“That’s it,” Fox cuffs him and throws him in the back of the speeder. “Puck,” his partner for the afternoon snaps to attention. “Bag and tag the evidence, I’m going to get started on this intake paperwork before we drop him off at the holding cell.”

“Sir, shouldn’t we drop him off first?”

Fox shakes his head, “No, we’re going to let him sit and stew for a minute.”

“Sir?”

Fox switches to the inner-helmet comm to guarantee that their new catch can’t hear him. “I don’t care about this bottom-feeder,” Fox explains. “I want his boss.”

Puck nods and wordlessly starts tagging the evidence for the influx of spice trafficking in this district. Maybe Fox is paranoid, or maybe he is sleep-deprived, but he has a hunch that the Senator from Colunda has a hand in this. The man had a sketchy past and basically bought his way into the Senate - now, spice is being sold in almost every sector and prostitutes in the higher, more expensive sectors. Fox would bet his left blaster that if he pulled the financials on Senator Bibbeck that he would find quite a bit of unmarked and illegal banking hidden within the Banking Clan. 

“Everything is bagged, tagged and ready to deposit, sir.”

Fox nods in acknowledgement. “Follow my lead on this, alright?”

He slides into the driver’s seat and Puck in the passenger. 

“So I heard the senators are really cracking down on trafficking within Coruscant,” Fox begins. 

“Yeah, what’d you hear?” Puck kicks back in his seat. Both of them note in the rearview mirror the way the Zygerrian shifts. 

“Mostly that the charge for spice trafficking is life in prison and slave trafficking is automatic execution.”

The Zygerrian sputters. “What? Is that true?”

Puck nods, “‘Fraid so. Commander here guards Senate meetings quite frequently. If he heard it, it’s true.”

“Wait, wait. What… what if I told you about my boss? Huh? Could I get a lesser sentence? I promise I’m just trying to feed my kids.”

Fox looks up in the rearview mirror to look at his squirming capture. “I’m listening.”

“Look, okay. So, I didn’t see his face, we’ve never met in person but I can hand over all of our correspondence. Every message, every holorecording.”

Fox nods. “Fair enough. You’ll still have to do some time, but I’ll make sure you don’t serve more than a standard year.” 

“Thank you, thank you, sir.”

Within their inner helmet comms, Puck asks, “Are they actually cracking down, sir?”

“No. The usual sentence for his crime is a year, anyway, probably less since it’s his first offense.”

Out of view of their prisoner, Puck offers a fist to his Commander. Fox taps his knuckles against the Lieutenant's. Nothing like a hard day’s work.

~

In Padmé's office - they're on a first name basis now and Riyo could die from excitement - she explains her idea. Basically, Riyo wants to poll as much of the Republic as she can, if they can get a good census of parties against the war, then they can use that to support their official proposal for a peace treaty as well as defunding the GAR. 

"I was also thinking," Riyo continues, setting down her tea cup with a faint _ting_. "That maybe we could poll some members of the GAR as well, see what they're beliefs are."

Padmé nods, "We could try, but it would have to be done anonymously. There is a section of their regulations that states they cannot talk out against the GAR. Even then, we would only be able to poll officers such as Admirals and Generals. The clone troopers aren't considered sentient and therefore have no rights within the Republic." 

Riyo nods solemnly. "But what if they have opinions about this war?"

Padmé sighs, her face crinkled with dismay. "It still wouldn't matter. In the eyes of the Republic, it would be no different than asking a protocol droid of its feelings towards a war."

"What you're saying is that those men are no better than droids. Worse even, under the Sentiency Declaration Act, droids were proclaimed to be sentient."

Padmé nods. "It’s unfortunate, but it is also the point. If we were sending sentient men into battle we would be a far cry worse than the Separatists. Imagine the systems we would lose just because of that one action."

Riyo worries her bottom lip. It is disgusting to think that saving face is more important than what is _right_. The Senate is playing politics with men’s lives. Men are dying every day, or she imagines they are. Nowhere within the Republic could a civilian find a casualty count. 

But a commander could. 

A commander could also discreetly interview troops regarding their opinions on the war, and perhaps even their treatment. 

Instantly, her mind is made up. She will go see Fox tonight. 

"So what kind of questions should we put in this survey?" Padmé asks, drawing her attention back to the present. 

~

Commander Fox and Lieutenant Puck make their way through the Senate parking lot, doing basic bomb checks with scanners and checking for valid permits. It’s a fundamental task, something Fox normally wouldn’t be caught dead doing, but Sergeant Stride is in medical due to a bad foot chase that sent him plummeting down nearly four stories. Luckily, after a quick spinal realignment, he will be back on duty at the end of the week. And while Fox could easily assign these shifts to someone else, he feels bad overworking troopers that have to deal with so much already. At least as Commander, Fox tends to get a few perks; for instance, he gets to tell snide senators that he is the boss. 

“Hey Commander,” Puck calls, “take a look at this.” He gestures to a fancy craft parked in a handicap spot without a parking permit. 

“What about it, Puck?” Fox would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting tired. He has spent all day chasing around petty spice dealers, getting little information about their bosses and, to be quite frank, an illegally parked speeder is probably at the bottom of his give-a-fuck list. 

But this is Puck’s job and, like most of his men, he takes it very seriously. So Fox listens patiently when Puck states, “It’s parked illegally, sir.”

Fox blows out a breath. “Yeah, it is.”

Puck looks from Fox to the speeder and back to Fox. “Sir, protocol says that I need to call it to be towed.”

“Call it in, Trooper. I’m going to continue with the sweep.”

“Yessir.”

“And hopefully, by the time the towman gets here, I’ll be done with the sweep and we’ll be done early,” Fox sighs; it is wishful thinking, really. Knowing his luck the towman will be here well after he finishes the sweep, Fox will miss dinner, and spend the rest of his night filling out paperwork - his _actual_ job - only to get two hours of sleep and start the shit show all over again. 

“Sir, yessir!” Puck chirps and calls in for a towcraft. 

With a heavy sigh, Fox continues pacing through the garage, holding up his scanner to check for threats. He has almost finished when, behind him, he is vaguely aware that Puck is guiding the towcraft with universal hand signals. 

Good, maybe he will be back to his office in time for dinner, a glass of brandy and hours of document signing. Honestly, it sounds like a relaxing evening. Mindless signing, maybe he could even put on some music. It is not something he actively advertises, but Fox does like to listen to the radio every now and again. 

Hey may even have a favorite song or two. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fox hears someone roar from all the way at the other end of the lot. His head snaps up and he sees Puck get shoved against the tow craft. 

_Absolutely fucking_ not _._

Fox charges down the lot, trying to remember the breathing methods that Thire taught him. Thire, may all the stars and moons bless him, has been trying to get Fox to destress and gave him a list of exercises to try. Some of it involved morning stretches, others _positive thinking_. Fox had scoffed a that bit. 

But he does genuinely try to keep his breathing under control. 

As he marches up to the poor excuse of sentient brain cells, Fox counts down from 100. 

“I said what do you think you’re doing, Trooper!?” The man shoves Puck again. 

Puck tucks his arms behind his back, settling into a formal parade rest as he accepts the undeserved dressing down. “You think you can just tow my vehicle!? What makes you think you have the right to do that!” He shoves his jeweled finger on Puck’s chest plate and goes to do it again, before Fox catches the man’s wrist. 

“If you have an issue with my Lieutenant, Senator, you can take it up with _me_ ,” Fox growls. The senator, Rasit Brun from Lambda, jerks his hand from Fox’s grasp. 

“Get your hands off me, you filthy clone.”

Puck scrambles out of the Senator’s reach and stands behind Fox. Good. At least this way, the Senator will have to go through _him_ to get to the Lieutenant. 

“Is there an issue you would like to address, Senator Brun?” Fox inquires, tucking his hands behind himself in a casual parade rest. The senator reels back. Yes, that is one of the best parts of his eidetic memory - he knows every senator by name and he _uses_ it when they’re being difficult like this. Fox doesn’t know if it is some sort of Senatorial training, but they get flustered when he knows their name but they don’t know his in return. 

“Yes,” the senator spits, stepping up to Fox. “Your _Lieutenant_ is having my speeder towed.”

Slowly, Fox glances to the speeder and sees a crowd of senators gathering around to watch the scene. Great, now Fox _really_ has to be on his best behavior. This is about to be all over the holonet. “It’s parked illegally, Senator,” Fox bites. 

“How so?”

“It’s parked in a handicap spot, sir.”

“What if I am handicapped?”

Fox looks him up and down. He doesn’t want to make any assumptions, so he simply asks, “Do you have a placard that says you can park here?”

“No-”

“Then you can’t park here. Towman!” Fox steps away and over to said worker. “Tow this vehicle to the impound lot. Also, do you have a receipt?”

“Sure thing,” the young twi’lek taps on his datapad and hands him a slip of flimsi. 

“Thank you, have a great evening. Tell Lu I said hello.”

“Sure thing, Commander.” The Twi’lek shoves the towcraft in gear and sputters away, fancy speeder sagging on the back. 

Senator Brun attempts to snatch the receipt out of Fox’s hand, but Fox’s reflexes are far faster and he manages to withhold the piece of flimsi. “Sir, this is just the charge for towing your speeder. You still have to pay the fine.”

Making sure to move as slowly and concisely as possible, Fox scans the receipt in, adds the additional fee for parking illegally in a Senatorial Handicap space, and prints a new receipt for him. 

“You can pay your fine at the Coruscant Guard Office, Senator.” Fox finally hands him the receipt and the senator glances over it. 

“Fifteen hundred credits!?” He exclaims. 

Fox nods. “Yes, sir.”

“This is ridiculous!” The Senator shreds the receipt, throws it to the ground and proceeds to stomp on it. The tantrum rivals some that he has seen from children on Community Outreach Day. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You're just a clone! What do you even know about speeders, let alone parking!?”

Fox takes a deep breath and settles in for a dressing down. 

_100_

_99_

_98_

“You are nothing but a separatist fodder that was too fucked up to make it into real battle! Instead they have you hear writing parking tickets for infractions that shouldn’t even exist!” 

_97_

_96_

_95_

“I bet you get off on this shit, you useless fusion of cells! I bet you like flexing your authority over a group of Senators because you want to feel the heat of battle, don’t you! You’re trying to make the Senate chambers a war zone because you’re nothing but an uncivilized animal!”

_94_

_93_

_92_

The worst part about this dressing down, is that it’s almost true. Fox _does_ hate working on Coruscant, he _does_ feel useless, he _does_ want to feel the heat of battle. 

He takes a deep breath and keeps counting. 

~

“What is going on?” Riyo asks as she and Padmé walk out to their speeders and see a crowd has formed around a few parking spaces. 

“Let’s check it out,” Padmé suggests, pulling her towards the crowd. 

“And you know what!” Senator Brun is shouting at a clone - wait, that is Commander Fox. “You can take your fucking parking ticket and shove it up your plastoid covered ass!” He bellows and then proceeds to _spit_ on the Commander. 

Riyo gasps. 

Fox is as stiff as a board and mechanically raises his hand to wipe the saliva from his visor. “Is that all, sir?” He grinds out. 

“Is that all? Is that all!” Senator Brun is reaching for the Commander, and Riyo suddenly finds herself between them, catching the other Senator’s wrist. 

“I think that is quite enough, Senator Brun, unless you would like me to report you to the Senatorial Conduct Committee.”

The Senator shrugs her off with a huff. As his last parting gift, though, he holds up a finger and growls, “Your commanding officer will be hearing about this, _clone_.”

Fox straightens. “ _I_ am the commanding officer. Any complaints against me must be filed with Chancellor Palpatine.”

Brun huffs again and turns on his heel. 

“Have a splendid day, Senator Brun!” Fox calls and Riyo can hear the acid dripping from his words. He turns to the crowd, almost disregarding her, and shouts “Nothing to see here, Senators, please continue about your business. Any concerns can be directed to the Coruscant Guard Office. The number for our office can be found in your emergency contact lists. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

The crowd disperses. 

“Commander,” Riyo hustles to catch up with him and the other trooper, only feeling a little bad for abandoning Padmé. “Commander.”

“Senator Chuchi.” He sounds exhausted. “Any concerns you have can be directed to the Coruscant Guard office.”

“Yes, I know, I was hoping to schedule an appointment with you.”

Fox and the other trooper both skid to a halt and stare at her. Their helmets are completely expressionless, but she can feel their surprise.“You want to schedule an appointment with _me_?”

“Yes. I mean, well, maybe not something so official, but if you have a free moment, there is something I would like to discuss with you.”

He doesn’t sigh, but his shoulders sag. “Alright, come with us.”

She tries not to be disappointed by how deflated he sounds. 

~

Fox types the code into his office, and the door whirls open. Stepping inside, he removes his helmet and sets it on the desk. He motions to the chair across from his desk as he sits in his own. Normally, he would feel a little bad that his guest chair is rickety and woefully uncomfortable, but right now he is grateful for that small inconvenience. He is really not willing to entertain. He is tired. He has work to do. He is fed up with Senatorial banthashit for the day. 

“What can I do for you, Senator Chuchi?” He asks, rubbing his temples. 

“I have a favor to ask of you,” she begins. 

His stomach drops. Just as he had expected, her kindness comes with strings. Nothing is given for free on Coruscant. 

He should have known better. 

“And what is it that you require, _Senator_?” 

She flinches at the way he spat her title, but he can’t find it in him to care. He feels abused and, in some small way, vindicated for not having fully trusted her. 

“Time with your men and discretion on your part.”

Fox arches an eyebrow, he does not like where this conversation is going. There are such things as bucket bunnies and he is not in the mental state for Senator Chuchi to discuss her sexual preferences with him. 

“You see, I would like to interview your men on their opinion on the war and of the GAR.”

The wheels in his mind screech to a halt. “What?”

She doesn’t seem to sense his apprehension and she continues, “Senator Amidala and I are writing a proposal for a peace treaty. We are polling as many systems as we can and I had suggested that we poll the GAR as well. However, it was brought to my attention that I can’t due to your…” she waves her hand as she tries to think of the appropriate word to describe their indentured servitude. “Status. I would like to do it anyway, though, anonymously so that at the very least I might be able to improve your living conditions? At the very best bring peace to a galaxy at war?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Her eyes are wide and innocent and it just makes him angrier. How dare she ask that as if nothing is wrong? As if she wouldn’t be putting an entire legion of men at risk?

He rockets from his chair, causing it to skid across the durasteel. She rises as well, but with far less fervor. “For starters, Senator, I know what kind of political games are played in the Senate and I will _not_ have my men used as _pawns_ for your political agenda! Secondly, there are multiple regulations _against_ what you are asking me to do. If I were to go along with this, many of my men, including _myself_ could be decommissioned. Thirdly, how dare you come into my office with a proposition like this, Senator? Bribery is illegal and I will _not_ tolerate it.”

“Bribery?” She asks incredulously. 

“The food, the social visits-” 

She interrupts him, “I was being nice! I thought we were _friends_!” Her golden eyes are wide with shock, but he doesn’t pull his next verbal punch. 

“I am a _clone_. I don’t have _friends_! Especially not two-faced friends like yourself!”

“Two-faced?!” She cries. 

He nods. “Nothing on Coruscant is free Senator, and you just proved that to me. If your friendship comes with a price, then I don’t want it,” he spits. 

Her lip trembles. “Is nothing here genuine?!” She cries and falls into the rickety chair with her head in her hands. “I never wanted you to think that my friendship was costly, Commander.” She murmurs. “I just wanted to help,” her voice wobbles. 

A wave of regret washes over Fox. He has had a shit day and has taken it out on the one person who has shown him a shred of humility, who just defended him not more than a standard hour ago. He should apologize. The problem with apologizing, though, is that one has to swallow their pride in order to do so, and that is something at which Fox has never been good.

When he hears a small sniffle come from her petite blue frame, his resolve crumbles. He starts, “Senator.” No, this should probably be more friendly than formal. He has called her _two-faced,_ after all. “Riyo… I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to yell.”

He hadn’t meant a lot of the things he said either, but he can’t take back what is still echoing in the void between them. His sharp words have already wounded her, all he can do is try and extinguish the flaming bridge she has so painstakingly tried to build. 

She shakes her head. 

He steps out from behind the desk and kneels in front of her, trying to ignore the awkward creaks of his plastoid armor in the charged silence of his storage closet-sized office. “Not much is genuine on Coruscant, you’re right. I’ve mistaken your kindness for bribery because it has happened so many times before. I’ve been propositioned more times than I care to count. You… You’ve been the only Senator to show me genuine kindness to me and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I judged you.”

She looks up and her bright, canary eyes seem to glow against the pink agitation of tears. “It’s okay… You are forgiven. I never considered the safety of your men and I’m sorry. And I know I’ve already apologized once before, but I feel that I should say it again. I’m sorry that I never defended your men before. I…” she huffs a wet laugh. “I was trying to fit in. I was so desperate to be someone powerful, I didn’t realize I was doing it at the expense of others. I’m sorry.”

He nods and goes behind his desk. Opening the false bottom in his bottom desk drawer, he pulls out a bottle of brandy and two coffee cups. “Would you like some?”

“ _Stars_ , yes.” She wipes her eyes hastily. 

He pours them both two fingers and he sits back. “So, I’m guessing your day wasn’t much better than mine?”

She shakes her head before holding her cup up to his. They tap them together, “To better days,” she says. 

“To better days,” he answers and they both take a drink, peace settling quietly between them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story!! I am giving you all the hugs!! <33


	6. The Great Zillo Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of whumptober first, I present this chapter. It is kind of an episode re-write, but not really. It is mostly what is happening behind the scenes and, of course, some sweet, sweet foxiyo content.

Looking back on his week, it probably should have been some sort of sign, Fox thinks. All week, everything had been going smoothly. Too smoothly, apparently. There were no incidents, no injuries. The beginning of the week had started with a peaceful General Assembly meeting, for once. Not many insults were tossed around the hall and no one had to be forcefully excused from the Rotunda. The following day had brought several effortless prisoner exchanges - in fact every single one of them had been executed without incident. At the beginning of the third day of the week, Fox had assumed the proverbial boot was bound to drop, but no. There were no assassination attempts, no bomb threats, no… nothing. 

Now, however, he stands at the landing pad awaiting an operational nightmare. “Move it Troopers!” He bellows as they scurry to unload the hangar of its contents. He had received transmission from General Skywalker - that had been his first indication of the shit storm to come - that they were escorting a “Zillo Beast” to Coruscant per the Supreme Chancellor’s orders. 

On a daily basis, Fox has found himself fed up with the Chancellor’s antics. But today, _today_ Fox finds himself cursing the man to each ring of the Corellian hells. May every God/Goddess/Omnipotent force curse this wrinkly bastard for the rest of his days. He wants a thing called “The Great Zillo Beast” brought to _thee_ most populated planet in the entire galaxy? Had the man lost his mind?!

Whatever the Chancellor was smoking, Fox wants a hit. That’s what he wants. 

A gunship lands just as Fox and his men put the final touches on their hangar-turned-holding cell for this creature. Commander Thire comes up and gives Fox a quick salute before saying, “The Facility has been secured, sir.”

“Great. I have no idea what in the hell we are getting ourselves into. Tell the men to set their blasters to stun and be ready for anything.”

Thire snaps his heels together and executes a flawless about-face while Fox blows out a breath of pure frustration. Would it have been too much to ask to have a stress-free week? Was every politician on this planet bound and determined to give him a heart attack before his time?

On second thought, he would welcome a heart attack. 

At least he wouldn’t have to put up with this banthashit anymore. 

Oh well, a clone can dream. 

~

The transport lands on the tarmac and Fox along with two of his commanders, Thire and Thorn, and a team of thirty brave clones stand on either side of the where the ramp is going to lower. Everyone has blaster rifles at the ready, including the commanders who usually carry pistols. Whatever they are about to face is most certainly going to require the ‘big guns’, especially after General Skywalker had reported that his lightsaber couldn’t even pierce the shell of this thing. 

Fox isn’t going to lie, his heart is racing a little faster than normal as he awaits what could be the worst idea he has heard of in his life. 

With a hydraulic hiss, the ramp lowers and the Zillo Beast is rolled out to them. On the command chat line, Fox hears Thire let out a low whistle, “What in the Kaminoan wet dream is _that_?”

Fox would like to know the answer to that question, too. This thing is fucking massive. It is easily three gunships in length, probably more, with impenetrable armor and a just plain mean look on its face - even with the copious amount of drugs it is doped up on. 

As rehearsed, he takes point, leading the Zillo Beast into the facility while Thorn and Thire fall in on either side. As they pass by the line of troopers, they fall in behind the last, escorting the beast until there are thirty men surrounding this murder monster. Walking into the facility, they pass by Chancellor Palpatine, who looks far too pleased in Fox’s opinion. 

Oh, he has a _bad_ feeling about this. 

~

Riyo sits down at her desk with a fresh cup of tea just as the chime rings. She suppresses a sigh. She hasn’t had a bad week, per se, but the rumor mill has stirred up after the video of her intervening in the altercation with Senator Brun went viral. She has heard some pretty explicit things said behind her back about how she treats clones. It’s hard to say that she doesn’t care, because she doesn’t, it’s just… there are only so many negative things one can hear about themselves before they start to believe it. 

Right now, she is starting to believe it. 

She goes over to her door and opens it, only a little surprised to see Padmé. She charges into Riyo’s office, “I’m sorry to interrupt like this, but I am just so angry!” 

Riyo’s eyes widen despite herself. She has never seen the Senator so irate. “What’s the matter? Can I help with anything?” She questions. 

Padmé shakes her head. “I don’t think so, unfortunately. It’s just... Do you have a moment? I don’t want to interrupt if you don’t.”

Shaking her head, Riyo motions to the chair, “No please.”

Padmé sits and Riyo joins her. “There is a… creature that has been shipped here from Malastare. It is truly a sight to behold, but the Chancellor has ruled it non-sentient without any debate. Without any ruling from the democracy he runs! He claims it is for the safety of the people, but I have my doubts.”

Riyo swallows the fear rising in her throat, this time not for herself, but for her _friend_. Commander Fox, she imagines, would surely be in charge of handling a situation like this. “Is there anything we can do?” She asks. 

“I’m afraid not,” she sighs. “Unfortunately, I’m here mostly to vent. I just… I’m beginning to lose faith in the Chancellor and I feel as if our democracy is dying because of this war.”

Riyo nods. “Perhaps you should try speaking with him again. Is there anyone who could possibly sway his decision?”

Padmé nods. “I think there is.”

~

Fox settles into his desk chair as Ponds plops across from him. “Chancellor Palpatine wants me to fill out these requisitions for supplies for the Zillo Beast. He wants to try and exploit it to make better armor for us.”

Ponds rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it’s worth it. We lost so many men trying to tame that thing once and we were in the middle of a kriffing desert. What the hell do you think that _thing_ is going to do in Coruscant? The Chancellor has lost his mind and you can tell him I said that.”

Fox shakes his head. “I don’t think I will.”

His commlink chirps, shattering the illusion of peace, and Ponds straightens across from him. 

“I don’t think that’s going to be a happy message, brother,” he warns, his trademark grin wiped clean from his face. 

“Commander Fox,” he speaks into his vambrace. 

“Commander!” It sounds like Thire. “We have a real big problem, sir! The Beast has escaped. Puck says it was last spotted between sectors G-11 and 14. I have them scrambling gunships.”

Ponds bolts up out of the guest chair and Fox does the same. “Good work, Thire. Get the tanks and ray guns ready. If a General finds you, follow his orders. You are officially deemed liaison for the Guard.”

“Yessir!” 

Ponds arches an eyebrow. “What’re you going to do?”

“I have to evacuate as many people as I can. Starting with the Senate.”

Ponds grabs his brother’s vambrace and Fox echoes the motion. “Good luck,” Ponds nods. 

“You too,” Fox nods. 

~

It is getting late when Riyo decides to head home. Thankfully, Ilona has already left with the promise of making some traditional Pantoran stew. She can’t wait to feel a small inkling of comfort. Grabbing her shawl and slinging it around her shoulders, she makes her way through the general hall when Senator Baab rushes up to her side. “Chuchi!” 

“Baab,” she forces a smile, trying to prepare herself for whatever slur she may have to say. Fema hasn’t been outright rude to her, but Riyo has caught her snickering as she walks by. 

“I heard that the clones are guarding some sort of beast, do you know anything of it?” 

Riyo keeps her face impassive. “No, I don’t. Do you?” In reality, Riyo probably knows _too_ much. She knows enough to want to march herself down the Coruscant Guard office and ask Fox what they plan to do with the beast; but she feels like it would be exploiting their friendship, something she is very careful to not do these days. After his rightful explosion nearly two weeks ago, they have been distant, but cordial and that is probably for the best. She doesn’t want to get him in any trouble and she is already dealing with the backlash of being a defender of clones. 

Just as the words leave her mouth, the building shakes and the lights go out only for the red emergency lights to kick

on instantly. “Everyone!” A senate guard announces. “We are evacuating to the lower levels. Please avoid using lifts and move as swiftly as possible.”

Baab glances to Chuchi, her eyes wide with fear. “I left my datapad up in my office,” she blurts. 

“So? We need to evacuate!” Riyo hisses, trying to keep herself from shouting and causing a panic. She knows, deep in her heart, that she is a courageous person, but right now none of that courage is anywhere to be found and she just wants to get _out_ of here. 

“It has my only draft of the bill I’m working on!” 

Her first thought is that Baab is an absolute fool for not backing up her files, her second thought is that she can’t let her go _alone_ , not when there is a murderous beast on the loose and an order to evacuate to safety. “Come on,” Riyo grabs the Bajic Senator’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Needing no further encouragement, they walk briskly through the corridors, against the flow of traffic, and up to her office. 

~

“Puck!” Fox shouts into his commlink. “I need you and your teams to ping all sectors that you’ve seen the Beast!” 

“Yessir!” 

“Can you calculate its trajectory?” 

“Yessir, it’s heading straight for the Rotunda along route 91!”

Fox turns to the small squad he managed to scrape together at the last minute. He has heightened security at the prison in case the Zillo Beast knocks out the power on that block and they have to rely solely upon manpower to keep the prisoners in check. Otherwise, half of his remaining men have been sent to aid Thire, Ponds, and the Jedi and the other half had been performing their scheduled patrols. 

“Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Tango squads, do you copy?” Fox asks into his vambrace. 

Various yessirs chirp through his commlink. 

“I need you all cutting off traffic flow onto route 91. The Zillo Beast is on the move down that highway. Keep as many civvies as you can out of the line of fire.”

“Yessir!” They shout in unison. 

He turns back to the squad he has assembled. “Alright men, I need us to break up into two-man teams and move across Highway 91, we need to evacuate all civvies onto side streets. Get them _off_ the main drag.”

“Yessir!”

Fox goes to take off by himself when Sergeant Stride steps up next to him. “What is it, Stride?” Fox asks, mounting his speeder bike. 

“You said two-man teams, sir.”

“Yes I did, find yourself a partner and move out.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think that applies to you too.”

Fox’s chest swells, but he quickly stamps down those emotions. He can be choked up about someone caring for him _later_. “Alright trooper, let’s get a move on.”

Stride hustles over to his speeder bike and follows Fox out into the Coruscant night traffic. 

~

Still holding hands, Riyo and Fema dart back down the senate halls. Everything is deathly quiet and the red flashing emergency lights do nothing to quell Riyo’s rising anxiety. The building shakes once more, and chunks of the ceiling fall around them. 

“Oh God, what do we do? Where do we go?” Fema has a death grip on her hand and Riyo struggles to parce together a rational thought. They need to evacuate the building and the closest exit is down through the stairwell. 

“Come on, follow me,” Riyo drags her to the stairwell and they bound down the steps as quickly as possible. The building groans with agony and Riyo tries to suppress a shudder. She has a feeling that the Beast is on top of the Rotunda wreaking havoc. The ceiling rumbles again, duracrete sprinkling down upon them. 

“Riyo are you sure about this?” Fema clutches her datapad to her chest and Riyo tries to give her a reassuring smile. 

“Pretty sure.”

“That doesn’t sound very confident,” she chides. 

“I’m not the one who went back for my datapad when we were explicitly told to _evacuate_ ,” Riyo spits. 

Fema remains silent at that as they continue to bound down the stairs. Just as they reach the landing, the building lets out a bone-rattling moan. 

“That can’t be good,” Fema hisses. She sounds like she is on the brink of tears. 

“No, I don’t think it is.” As Riyo charges towards the door, a chunk of ceiling falls in front of her.

Fema shrieks. 

Riyo stumbles backwards, and starts pushing her friend. “Hurry! Hurry! Under the stairs!”

“What?”

“Just do as I say!” She shouts, shoving them under the stairwell just as more duracrete crashes to the floor. 

~

Her head is _throbbing_. Slowly, she inches herself upright only to hiss and squeeze her eyes shut when the throbbing increases tenfold and her vision swoops dramatically. 

Well, that is certainly a concussion. 

“Fema?” She rasps. The air is thick and dry. Slowly, she blinks into the darkness and sees a faint outline of her friend. The dull red glow of emergency lights filters through the slabs of duracrete, laying around the stairwell. Her senatorial counterpart doesn’t stir and, as slowly as she can manage so that she doesn’t vomit due to her pounding head, Riyo moves over to Fema and shakes her lightly. 

The woman groans and Riyo lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank the Goddess,” she breathes. 

“Chuchi? Where are we?” 

Riyo glances around to take stock of their situation. They are most definitely trapped under the stairwell that leads out into the main parking garage. “The stairwell,” Riyo states as she further assesses their situation. 

They are trapped. 

Panic starts to rise and Riyo takes a deep breath. She just needs to have a little faith. They are both Senators. The Senate Guard will realize they are missing, that they didn’t check in after the formal evacuation. Well, the Senate Guard may not notice, but the Coruscant Guard definitely will. They are in charge of securing areas after an evacuation has been declared. Someone will come looking, someone will find them. 

She hopes. 

Fema seems to come to the same conclusion that she has, but with far less optimism. “We’re trapped. Oh God, we’re trapped.”

Riyo’s eyes slowly adjust to the light. She supposes that is one good thing about being Pantoran. During the winter season, the sun is not visible for 3 months and they must make due with their heightened night vision. So, she easily notices how terrified Fema looks. Her dark brown eyes are blown wide with fear and her usually dark braids are caked with white duracrete powder. 

She imagines she doesn’t look much better. 

“We’re fine,” Riyo coos, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. “We’re fine. We are two senators and procedure states that the Coruscant Guard must check in with each of us and survey the area before they begin demolition.”

“And what makes you so certain that they will find us?” Fema questions. 

“Because they are the most highly trained men in the Republic,” Riyo retorts. At least, she’s pretty certain. She has never seen the training courses on Kamino and she has never asked about training there either, but she has seen the way Coruscant Guard treats a situation and the way the Senate Guard treats the same situation. 

The Corrie Guard is always a hundred times more thorough and respectful. 

“But they are nothing more than machines! They don’t give a damn if they find us or not!” Fema cries. 

“No they’re not!” Riyo shouts, her voice reverberating across the rubble and shocking her cellmate into silence. “No, they’re not,” she repeats with a calmer tone. 

“Ugh, you’re such a filthy clone-lover. Nothing better than those bucket bunny sluts.”

Riyo absolutely does _not_ feel tears prickle in her eyes. “Did you know that they bleed?” She rasps. 

“What?” 

“Did you know that they _bleed_?” 

Fema sputters. “Of course they bleed. They’re made of human flesh.”

“Did you know that they _feel_ pain?” 

“They do not.”

“They do too,” Riyo whispers, suddenly thinking of Fox. She desperately hopes that he is okay. Distant friendship or not, he is one of the few people here on Coruscant who accepts her entirely. He doesn’t expect anything from her; well, he had expected her to be as two-faced as everyone else here, but he expects no service or action or gift. All he wants is respect and she finds that it is the easiest gift to bestow upon him. 

“How do you know? Did you _fuck_ one too hard?” 

Riyo shakes her head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you’re so mean to me. I went with you so you wouldn’t be alone, not because I wanted to. I back up my drives; I would have been fine waltzing right out of this building and leaving you to be trapped here, _alone_.” She sucks in a deep breath, not quite done with her speech yet. “The reason I don’t hang out with you and Bibbeck and Deechi and Ask is because I got sick and tired of pretending to be something I’m not. I believe that everyone and everything is deserving of kindness and respect because who am I to say that they aren’t? I’m a senator, not a Deity. It is not my duty to judge someone for their actions and it is certainly not my duty to judge someone by where they come from or what caste they were unfortunate enough to be born into. I just don’t understand why you think that is acceptable,” she concludes, sinking against the rubble. 

Fema is stuck into silence once more and when she finally speaks, it's a whisper. “I wish I could say there is some excuse for my behavior, but I’m afraid I just… don’t know much about clones and it was easier to go with public perception.”

“I know,” Riyo murmurs. “I thought the same.”

“Do-do you really think they’ll find us?” 

“I believe it with every fiber of my being.”

~

Riyo isn’t certain how long they’ve been down here, but it feels like hours. She only knows this because her bladder is starting to ache and it is getting harder and harder to maintain consciousness. They must be losing oxygen. 

“Fema?” She whispers, nudging the woman with the toe of her shoe. She has lost her other one and it breaks her heart a little because they were her favorite pair. Her mother had bought them as a gift for her first day of law school - she had said that they were lucky. Maybe they were, she is still alive, after all. 

“I’m still alive,” she murmurs. 

“We need to try and stay awake.”

“But sleeping sounds like such a better way to pass the time.”

“You may have a head injury. You,” Riyo coughs. Yes, they are definitely losing oxygen. “You need to stay awake.”

Fema only hums in response. Riyo nudges her with her toe, but gets no response. They have taken turns calling out for the past however many hours and Riyo decides to try once more. They need to get out of here… and fast. 

“Help!” She calls, her voice hoarse from the hours of yelling, no water, dust in the air, or perhaps a combination of all three. “Help us!” She coughs. “Please! Is anyone up there?”

She hears a mumble of voices above the rocks. “Help!” She sobs. “Help us! We are down here!” 

The mumble becomes louder. Sucking in more air, her thin body is racked with another coughing fit, but she muddles through it. “Help us! Help us! We’re trapped!”

“Hey!” She hears someone. “Do you hear that?”

She starts yelling once more and could sob with relief when she hears them right outside of the rubble. “We hear you. Can you tell me your name?” Someone calls, it sounds like a Fox, so it must be a trooper. 

“Senator Riyo Chuchi, I’m trapped down here with Senator Fema Baab.”

“That’s great, Senator. My name is Commander Thire, with the Coruscant Guard. We are going to do our best to get you out of here quickly, alright? We just need you to hang on there a little bit longer.”

“It’s getting hard to breathe,” she coughs. She probably sounds whiney, maybe a little scared, but it _is_ getting hard to breathe and she _is_ petrified. 

“I know, Senator. You’re doing great. Just keep talking to me, alright?”

She nods, but realizes he probably can’t see her through the rubble. “Okay, okay I can try.”

“Great, great. Jek, call the Commander and tell him we’ve found the missing Senators. Tell him we are going to need a crane or a Jedi.”

She hears a faint ‘yessir’ in the distance. 

“Senator Chuchi, can you still hear me?”

She nods groggily before mumbling, “Yes. I can hear you, Commander.”

“How is your friend doing?”

“She passed out a while ago.” 

“Senator, I need you to go to her and check for her pulse.”

She nods again. Her limbs feel heavy and her fingers feel numb. “I don’t know if I can do this, Commander. I… feelveryweak,” her words slur together and she blinks to try and keep her world from spinning more than it already is. 

“You can do this, Senator. I heard you’re a pretty tough lady.”

She places her hand on the inside of Fema’s wrist and struggles to concentrate. What is she doing? Oh yeah, checking for a pulse. “She’s got one!” Riyo shouts and collapses against the wall of the stairwell. 

“Great. Jek, call in a medevac.”

“Yessir.”

“Senator, are you still with me?”

“Yes, Commander,” she mumbles. “Where,” she coughs. “Where did you hear that I was ‘tough’?” 

“Ah, some guards have been getting defended by you, ma’am. Word goes ‘round.”

She laughs weakly. “Better than some of the others I’ve been hearing.”

Either he knows what she is talking about, or he doesn’t and decides he doesn’t want to dive into that topic right now. “Senator, where are you from?”

“Pantora.”

“Tell me about your planet, Senator.”

“T’s cold,” she slurs. “But nice. The air is crisp and smells nice, not like Coruscant air at all.” The sky above her sounds like it is shattering, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” He asks above the crunching and crumbling. 

She doesn’t want to think about that. It’s already hard enough to breathe. 

“Do you have any siblings, Senator?” He presses. 

She knows he’s trying to keep her talking, just as she had with Fema, but she’s _tired_ . Her head is throbbing, her lungs are screaming with agony, and every nerve in her body is singing for her to _sleep_. Before she can pass out, she has one last lingering thought and that is she never wrote to her mother this week. Then, as her vision is tunneling and everything is going black, she sees a glimmer of white light and a hand reaching for her and she knows peace.

~

Fox checks through the list of casualties before he prepares to order requisitions. There have been too many casualties, Guard, senators, and civvies alike. Fox will never be able to forgive the Chancellor for bringing that _monster_ to Coruscant and destroying the homes of thousands of innocent people. It makes him sick. He is disgusted. 

Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he counts backwards from ten to prevent himself from flipping his lid and tossing everything off his desk. Death Certificates first. Then Casualty reports. Then Requisitions. In that order. He opens his datapad and starts signing off on the loss of property forms. His stomach churns but he signs his number, saves, and swipes to the next certificate. Cosmos, he had been a shiny, just picked his name. 

Fox signs, saves, swipes. 

Pierce. 

Signs, saves, swipes. 

Trapper. 

Signs, saves, swipes. 

Radar. 

Signs, saves, swipes. 

When he signs the last certificate, he approves cremation and falls back in his chair, staring blankly at his speckled ceiling. So many deaths. So many pointless deaths. Thirty in total. Thirty good men. Thirty _brothers_. 

He squeezes the bridge of his nose and counts back from ten. 

Okay, casualties. 

He starts with Senators and at the very top of his list is one _Baab, Fema._ And right underneath is a name he knows too well and is a little concerned to find it on the sheet. _Chuchi, Riyo_. 

He clicks her name and reads the accident report. 

_Senator Riyo Chuchi and Senator Fema Baab were found trapped underneath staircase 12-E, leading into the parking garage. Senator Chuchi had cried out for help and caught attention of the Guardsmen. Per standard operating procedure, the highest ranking officer maintained verbal contact with the victim until extraction. Senator Chuchi lost consciousness upon extraction. Initial medical report notes the Senator experienced symptoms indicating a concussion, severe oxygen deprivation, as well as a laceration to her left temple. Initial medical report believes she will make a full recovery._

_CC-4477_

Fox swallows. Sounds like she has been through quite an ordeal. He eyes the bag resting at the bottom of his bookshelf behind him. It is still resting there from where he had returned from his own stint in the medbay. He let the men laugh it up about him carrying a purple purse-thing (he wouldn’t qualify this as a purse, it looks more like a _bag_ to him, but whatever) and just for their behavior he hadn’t shared the sweets with them, either. He has a sweet tooth, he just doesn’t let people know that about him. The less people know, the less opportunity there is for him to be exploited or bribed. Inside the bag, however, are all of the datapads she had given him, mostly untouched. He had tried to do exactly _one_ crossword without her before he decided that he was no good at them and it was more fun with her anyway. 

He doesn’t dwell on that thought.

Instead, he stares at the bag and contemplates going to visit her. She _had_ said that she hates medbays. But she is a Senator and probably has an entire entourage surrounding her. 

But then again, he was really awful to her a few weeks ago. He had hoped he made it up to her with brandy and light conversation, but he is terrible at being friends with people. The only friends he has are because he was decanted with them, meaning they didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Of course, he might be able to make an argument for Thorn, Stone and Thire, but even then sometimes their friendship has more of a superior-and-subordinate type of dynamic. 

He looks back at the casualty list and decides that he has no desire to read them. He shoots up from his chair, sending it skidding across the durasteel, and snatches up the _very_ feminine, purple bag. Not wanting to get caught and harassed by his men once more, he hastily empties his own backpack and stuffs her purse, bag, _thing_ into his backpack. It will be easier to carry on his bike like this, anyway. He has her datapads, but what can he grab of his to give her? He stands, scanning his office when his eyes fall upon a stupid gadget Thire had given him in an attempt to calm his ever-fraying nerves. 

It _does_ help, but it is the only thing he really has in the form of _entertainment_ that he could give her. Snatching it up, he shoves it in his backpack. He doesn’t need it anyway. The more stressed he is, the more likely his men are to leave him alone. 

“Fort,” Fox calls as he heads out. “I’m leaving, if anyone needs me tell them I’ll be back in an hour.”

Fort nods and gives him a thumbs up while sipping his caf. 

~

Fox walks into the medbay and up to the trooper manning the front desk. “Trooper,” he begins and said private snaps to attention. “Where is Senator Riyo Chuchi’s room?”

“14th floor, sir, room 1425.”

“Thank you,” he says while turning on his heel. 

What in the _hell_ is he doing? This is stupid. He should be filing his requisitions and preparing for a day of rebuilding Coruscant. There are still sectors to be searched - thankfully those efforts are currently being led by Thorn and Thire, but his shift starts in less than three standard hours and he still needs to find time to sleep - and emergency medbays to be established. Yet, when he finds room 1425, he hesitates. 

Fox has charged into countless battles, training or otherwise, yet he can’t find the courage to knock on one senator’s door. He doesn’t know why this is different, and he doesn’t exactly want to unpack those emotions anyway. So, swallowing down his useless nerves, he knocks and settles at parade rest, trying valiantly to ignore his flipping stomach while he waits for permission. 

The door whirls open and reveals another Pantoran. She is not nearly as short as Riyo and her markings are different. 

Interesting. 

Fox had thought those were just markings every Pantoran had, now he sees that they differ in some way. “I’m here to see Senator Chuchi,” he announces, doing his very best not to stutter. He’s a battle hardened warrior, yet the thought of asking for permission to see Senator Chuchi has his heart racing like a cadet on his first live fire training exercise. 

The woman turns, shooting Riyo an obviously questioning look. She is silently asking if Riyo is comfortable being alone with him and his stomach does another flip. He _knows_ he looks intimidating and he _knows_ that most people don’t want to be left alone with a clone because of their reputation. 

But Riyo, upon seeing him, smiles and waves him in. “That’ll be all, Ilona, thank you.” 

The woman provides a brief curtsy before glaring at Fox and leaving. 

Then it is just the two of them in the room. She lays in the bed across from him, wearing a thin, white hospital gown, with her mauve hair braided neatly off to the side. She is missing her golden head piece, he realizes, and he almost misses the way it matches her eyes. No. He will not think that about a senator. No. 

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there, gawking at her, and he becomes painfully aware of how quiet it is. The only sound in the room is the metronomic beeping of the monitors behind her. Slipping off his helmet, he clears his throat. “How are you feeling, Senator?”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “I suppose I’ve been better, but I’m feeling quite well. This is a very pleasant surprise, Fox. How are you?”

He looks at the several bouquets of flowers around her room and feels woefully inadequate. What was he thinking? Coming to visit a senator and give her gifts that she had given him in the first place? There is not a single thing he could give her that she doesn’t already have. “I’m fine, Senator.”

“If I may, you look very tired. Please, sit,” she motions to the guest chair pulled up by her bed. He steps towards it, setting his helmet on the floor and shrugging off his backpack before sitting. 

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t, ma’am. I’ve been up all night.” He decides to leave off that he is about to start another 12 hour or better shift in a few hours. 

He really should be sleeping. 

“Well, lucky for me. I’ve been quite asleep,” she chuckles lightly. “They put me on some exceptionally strong pain meds when I first arrived here.”

“How are your injuries?” He asks. 

She shrugs, but he doesn’t miss the way she winces a little. “Superficial mostly, apart from my concussion. I’ll live.”

“I would hope so,” he says and immediately kicks himself. Why? _Why_ would he say something that _stupid_ to a fucking _senator_. 

Sweet maker strike him down, _please_. 

She smiles, a faint indigo blush darkening her cheeks. “So are you going to keep me waiting, or are you going to show me what’s in your bag?”

Now he blushes. “I don’t have much. Just what you gave me.” He eyes the small trinket in the bottom of the bag. “And this. Commander Thire gave it to me in hopes of helping me ‘de-stress’.” He rolls his eyes. “It can be somewhat entertaining and I thought you might get some pleasure from it.”

She beams. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you.”

He nods. “You told me once that you hate medbays and… and I thought I would return the favor.”

No, _now_ she beams. Her smile is wide and beautiful and he catches himself returning it. Clearing his throat, he looks down at his boots in order to set his face back to his impassive mask. 

“Thank you, Fox, it means so much to me.”

He nods and dares to look up at her. She is smiling softly and it is she who changes the subject first. “So, Commander Thire, the discoverer of this trinket, he was the one who found me, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smirks. “Fox, please stop ma’am-ing me. I’m not a Senator right now and this is far from a strictly professional visit.”

He blushes again. His face feels hot and his hands clammy. 

“Anyway, will you please thank him for me? He was… very helpful during that trial.”

Fox nods again, “Of course.”

“Well,” she begins. “Unfortunately, I am not allowed to look at datapad screens, but there is a book on one of these I have been meaning to read,” she rummages through her purple bag and finds the one she is looking for. “Would you mind reading to me for a while?”

He accepts the datapad from her. “No, I wouldn’t mind at all.” So, he settles in, reading the first line, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want for a wife.” He reads line after line to her, taking his time to make sure he pronounces each word perfectly. He is not illiterate, no, but this certainly isn’t a briefing, either. Some of the words sound foreign on his lips and the phrasing seems absolutely backward in his opinion, but he still manages to smile when she giggles at a joke that goes clear over his head. 

He keeps reading until he notices her breathing evening out. Turning off the datapad, he sets it on her bedside table next to an enormous bouquet of flowers and Thire’s little gadget. 

Slipping on his helmet, he prepares to slink out of the room when he hears her mumble one small phrase, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He can’t help the way he grins in response, “Me too.” And for the first time in his short miserable life, he is happy to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. Reading your thoughts about the chapter always make me smile! :3


	7. Under Construction

“This is an excellent plan, Commander,” Chancellor Palpatine smiles. 

Keeping his face impassive, Fox nods. “Thank you, sir.” Inside, he lets himself breathe a little. He knew, of course, that this was a superb plan, flawless even, but something about presenting data and schematics to the Supreme Chancellor just twists his stomach. “With your permission, I would like to implement this as soon as possible, sir.” 

The Chancellor grins and Fox’s stomach twists again. “Of course, Commander. If there is anything else you require, you need only ask.”

Fox nods once again, collecting his info disc from the holoprojector. “Thank you, sir. I will keep you apprised of any success we have.”

“I expect you will be quite successful, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir.” Fox turns to leave, but stops. “Actually, sir, there is something I would like to ask.”

The Chancellor motions for Fox to take the proverbial floor. He _really_ doesn’t like how every cell in his body is warning him that this is a bad idea and he tries to silence the voice in his head screaming that nothing is free on Coruscant. This is for his men, if he has to suffer the consequences, then so be it. 

“Sir, there has been an increase of violence directed towards my men.”

The Chancellor hums. “That is just an unfortunate side effect of war, my boy.”

Fox deserves one of those fancy acting awards for how schooled he keeps his face. He earned the title of ‘Marshal Commander’ for a reason and the Chancellor should best remember that. “No sir, the violence I’m talking about has been initiated by Senators. They have been tripping my troopers, damaging their equipment, spitting on them, and calling them some rather colorful names, sir.”

The Chancellor gasps in horror. “They would never.”

“I’m afraid so, sir. I can understand if you would like to not charge anyone officially with property damage. However, I would appreciate it if maybe you gave a warning, or perhaps an incentive for good behavior.”

Basically, Fox would appreciate it if Chancellor Palpatine scolded his senators like a bunch of first year cadets, because that’s how they act. 

No, that’s insulting to the cadets. 

“Commander, I will see to this _personally_.”

“Thank you, sir. My men and I are grateful.” Fox clicks his heels together, performs a crisp about-face, and exits, trying to maintain his dignity. 

~

4,000 cases of bottled water. 

_CC-1010_

2,500 cases of bacta patches.

_CC-1010_

His commlink chirps. “Fox,” he grumbles, setting down his datapad with a huff. 

“Add ration bars, we’re almost out. And blankets, we need blankets.”

“Noted,” Fox grouses. 

He opens the catalog on his datapad and searches for Republic-approved blanket provisions. Ordering more ration bars will be easy, but trying to find a cheap, but quality blanket to provide thousands, if not a hundred thousand displaced civilians will be hard work. The GAR doesn’t even provide clones with blankets, how is he supposed to know what a _good_ blanket would be? 

When he thinks he has found The One, he orders 2,000 cases. 

His commlink chirps again and he wipes his hands down his face. “Fox.”

“We are about to have a riot, sir. People are fighting over supplies.”

“Call for reinforcements. I’ll be right there.”

~

Riyo and Ilona sit on the very nice, new couch. Apparently, Fox had been in the middle of ordering requisitions last week and had asked if she would like anything. She had said that she was eyeing this particular furniture piece and three days later, it was at her doorstep, being delivered by two very polite troopers: Reese and Woods. She had offered to give them lemonade as a refreshment for their hard work, but neither would have it. They both said it was a privilege to meet her. 

“Looks like they’re making good progress,” Ilona comments, sipping her tea. 

“Hm?” Riyo looks up from her datapad. In one hand is her stylus and in her other is the once-was-Thire’s-then-was-Fox’s-now-is-hers trinket. It is quite soothing. It is composed of three legs and when she flicks it, it seems to spin ceaselessly. 

“The clones.”

“What about them?” 

Ilona huffs. “Were you not paying attention at all? Look.” She motions to the holonet feed projected on the wall. 

_Rebuilding Coruscant: Upper Levels Receive Record Time Revamping_

Riyo smirks. The Coruscant Guard has been working tirelessly on rebuilding their city. After the Zillo Beast, something that shook several senators’ faith in the Chancellor, she has seen fewer troopers around the hall and more out and about servicing their community. 

“Ilona, grab the camera. We are going on an adventure.”

“What?” Ilona finishes chewing her cracker. “An adventure?”

“Yes. We are going to snap some holos of our guardsmen doing work. Maybe have some positive images of them on the holonet instead of countless videos of them killing things.”

“Well, isn’t that what they do?” 

Riyo glares at her counterpart. 

“Right, right. Forgot. They’re _nice_.”

“They _are_ nice. And clones have saved my life twice.”

“One also sat and read to you until you fell asleep.”

Riyo lobs another glare at Ilona. 

“Right. Forgot. We aren’t talking about that.”

“You seem awfully forgetful today, Ilona.”

The tall Pantoran simply shrugs in response and they head out the door.

~

Camera in hand, Riyo treads carefully through the rubble of Coruscant. A few paces ahead, she can see a Coruscant Guard tent has been established; it stands out like a white and red beacon in a sea of fallen slabs of duracrete. A trooper is passing out supplies while behind him four more troopers and a group of civilians work hand in hand to clear the rubble. 

Riyo snaps a holo. 

She walks up to the tent and the trooper stops. “Wait! You’re Senator Chuchi!” He exclaims. A few civilians turn their heads, probably more due to the shouting than her name being mentioned. The four other troopers, however, quickly gather around. 

“Wait _thee_ Senator Chuchi?” One says as he jogs up. 

“No way!” The third shouts, almost vibrating with excitement. 

Before she knows it, all five troopers have gathered around to fawn over her. She is both overwhelmed and flattered. Her face feels hot - she has never been one for the spotlight - and she looks to Ilona for salvation. The slender Pantoran only stands aside, her mouth hanging agape. 

“Wait,” Riyo holds up her hands. “Wait. I don’t know any of your names.”

“Oh!” The apparent leader, though she doesn’t think he is a _ranked_ leader, begins introductions. “My name is Ash, this is Liam and Nix, and these two are Wise and Fowl.”

Riyo smiles. “It is lovely to meet you all. How have your efforts been?”

They all nod excitedly. 

“It’s nice to be doing nice things with the people,” Liam states and the other four agree fervently. 

“Troopers!” Another clone barks - apparently the _actual_ leader of the group. “Quit blabbing and get back to work!”

“But sir! It’s _Senator Chuchi_!” 

The boss snaps to attention. “Ma’am!” 

“At ease,” she waves dismissively - no need for all the fanfare. She can hardly stand the way the civilians are glancing more frequently at them. “What’s your name, trooper?”

“Stride, ma’am. Sergeant Stride.”

She smiles. “Nice to meet you. Do you mind if I chat with you for a moment?”

He nods, stepping out from under the tent walking with her a few paces away from the gaggle of troopers who are now fawning over Ilona. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Well, I was hoping to snap some pictures of your men working out here today. But I wanted to make sure it was okay, first.”

Stride hesitates for just a moment, shifting his weight back and forth for a moment. “I think it would be okay, but, if I may, I mean,” he huffs, squeezes the back of his neck and spits it out. “Could I ask a favor?”

“Of course!” She smiles. 

“Well, I don’t have any holos of my squad and I. Could you take one of us? Then you can take whatever pictures you want. Um, oh and you can give it to one of the commanders. I know you’ll probably see them before you see me.”

“Of course, Stride. I’d love to take a holo of you all.”

“Awesome!” He does a small jump before scurrying over to the waiting troopers. With a speed that can only come from years of training, the troopers rally around their leader and put their arms around each other. 

“Did you want to take your helmets off?” She asks. 

“Uh, no ma’am. We’re alright.” They have their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and one is putting bunny ears behind the Sergeant’s helmet. 

“Okay, 1...2...3,” she snaps the holo and they all rush towards her.

“Can we see?” 

“Yeah, Senator, can we see?”

“Boys!” The Sergeant yells. “Quit crowding the lady. Dang it, you would have thought you were raised by wolves.”

“Well,” one begins. 

“Don’t even start, Wise,” Sergeant Stride warns with a finger pointed at him menacingly. 

Riyo can’t help but grin as she turns her camera around to show the holo to the group. 

“Dammit Nix, you blinked,” Wise exclaims, with a shove to the one she assumes is Nix. 

“I did not.”

“Who? Wise! Why’d you ruin the picture with karking bunny ears!” 

“I simply added a personal flare.”

“I’m gonna ‘personal flare’ you right to latrine duty.” Sergeant Stride barks before ordering them back to work. He ushers Riyo away from the grumbling troopers before saying, “Thank you, ma’am, for putting up with that lot. They can be overwhelming at times.”

“They remind me a bit of my brother,” she smiles softly. 

“What? A royal pain in the ass? I mean, rear. Rear end. Sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean to curse in front of you.”

She laughs. “It’s quite alright. No, they’re just so full of life. It reminds me of him.”

Stride nods seriously. “Well if you need anymore reminders, ma’am, you’re always welcome to stop by. If you ask nicely, I may even let you boss them around.”

She laughs. “Oh is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods before rocking back on his heels. “Anyway, thank you. Feel free to take as many holos as you like.”

“Thank you,” she nods and walks back to where Ilona is standing, looking quite shocked at the whole exchange. “What?” Riyo asks. 

“They… they act like they’re human.”

Riyo nods slowly. “Yes… that’s… because they are,” she mutters. “Come on, let’s take these holos.” 

~

Back in her apartment, she scrolls through the images that she has uploaded to her datapad. There are just so many good ones. Her favorite, though, is the picture of the squad. She loves it so much that she considers framing it to put on her desk, but ultimately decides against it. They aren’t her family and she doesn’t know if she can consider them friends even though she considers their commander as such. 

Continuing through the series, though, she sees nothing but kindness. There is a picture of Ash, helmet removed, but completely beaming at a twi’lek child who is trying the helmet on for herself. Her little nubs of tails peep out from under the lip of the helmet. There is another image of him later on, holding the same twi’lek while she sleeps and drools all over his pauldron and he hands out water to the needy. There are a few other images, Stride carrying a wounded man, Wise gesturing animatedly at what can only be the causation of the group of civilians’ laughter, Nix and Liam handing out ration bars, Fowl covering up a sleeping woman with a blanket. 

These are the stories that need to be told of the clone troopers of Coruscant. 

“Ilona!” Riyo calls from her home office. 

Said woman darts into the room. “Yeah?”

“Do you still know that reporter? What was his name?”

“Rundo Tosh?” She asks. 

Riyo snaps her fingers. “That’s the one! Do you still have his contact information?”

“Yeah, why? Ri’chka what are you doing?”

Riyo smiles. “I’m going to throw a stone in the pond.”

~

Fox stumbles into his office, near dead on his feet. Nothing is fun about riots. Nothing. Not the gear and certainly not the people. He crashes into his desk chair and looks at the pages of requisitions he still needs to fill out. 

He just wants to sleep. 

He doesn’t even want to eat anymore. 

He isn’t even certain he knows when he last ate. 

Just as he is calculating whether or not he can afford to rest his eyes for a moment, Fort enters, unannounced _and_ without knocking. He silently deposits a cup of caf and a ration bar. “Yes, ma’am. No, I know. You don’t want us clones rebuilding your town. I understand. Have you thought of what supplies you may need to rebuild it yourself?” Fort exits, talking into his headset. 

Fox eyes the caf and the ration bar, but pushes them aside to rest his head on his desk. Just for a minute. 

~

Riyo and Ilona step into the pod of the Rotunda. Riyo wears her traditional lilac, hand-woven shawl with her hair pinned up into her golden headdress while Ilona wears a similar shawl, except in burgundy, and a golden headpiece placed delicately overtop of her mauve ringlets. They share a smile and Riyo can tell that they are thinking the same thing, how did they end up here? Of course, it had always been Riyo’s intention to run for senate, but it still feels so surreal at times. Now, they strut into the most famous building of the republic looking like goddesses amongst mere mortals. 

And, for once, Riyo feels as confident as a deity. 

“Good morning everyone,” Chancellor Palpatine begins. “I would like to begin by saying that it has been brought to my attention that some of you have been mistreating the Coruscant Guard.”

A low rumbling of disagreement washes over the crowd. 

“What is he talking about?” Ilona whispers. 

Riyo leans over to murmur in her friend’s ear. “A couple senators have been harassing troopers. I intervened a while ago, but people are still being rude to them.”

“How could anyone be so willfully rude to people who are so nice?”

“My thoughts exactly,” she replies. 

“I would like to remind you all that as Senators we must hold ourselves to a higher standard of conduct. These clones are here to protect us from threats foreign and domestic, but Separatist all the same. I hope I don’t need to remind you how dangerous those people can be. And with that, I would like to move towards our first agenda point.”

“Did you say something to him?” Ilona whispers. 

“No,” Riyo shakes her head, but she has an idea of who might have. 

~

Ilona and Riyo exit the general assembly, discussing their plans for the rest of the day. Riyo has a free schedule, thank the Goddess, and Ilona is trying, with little success, to convince her to go shopping. 

“Narc,” someone grumbles at her as she passes. 

Ilona hesitates for just a moment, but Riyo shakes her head. Not worth the confrontation. Not here, not now. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. It would be nice to go shopping, therapeutic after the week we’ve had. Maybe we could get manicures too.”

Riyo is shoulder-checked so hard she falls down. “Snitch.” The senator, she’s not sure from where, is a brute of a Devaronian man. 

“Hey!” Ilona shouts, whirling around, her navy skirts swooshing. 

“I’m fine, Ilona.” Riyo stands, straightening her shawl. “I actually think I’m going to bring lunch to Commander Fox. Check in on him. I need to give him the holo of Stride and the squad.”

Ilona bites her bottom lip. “That’s very sweet of you, Ri’chka. Are you sure about this? About befriending a Commander?” 

Riyo nods. “I’ve never been so certain.”

~

Riyo walks into the Coruscant Guard office and pauses at the front desk where Fort, for once, is not on a call with someone. “Fort,” she smiles. “How are you today?”

He sighs. “As well as the sole communication officer of Coruscant can be ma’am.” Just then the comm chirps and he sighs. “Are you looking for Fox?”

She nods. “Yes, I’m bringing him food,” she holds up her to-go bag. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I haven’t seen him eat or sleep in almost 48 hours.” He presses the angrily beeping button. “Coruscant Guard office, how may I direct your call?”

Riyo wanders down the bleak halls of the Guard office and to Fox’s door. The walls are painted a drab grey and the tile is a sterile white. With a shiver running down her spine, she knocks. 

From inside, there is a crash, followed by a violent curse and a ferocious demand to know what the hell she wants. 

She presses the keypad and the door slides open. 

He is sopping up spilled caf on his desk and she rushes into help. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. I wasn’t expecting you,” he grumbles, toweling off the desk. She grabs the spare napkins out of her bag and helps. 

“It’s quite alright. I figured you would be busy, I wanted to bring you food.”

His head snaps up. “You just wanted to bring me _food_?”

She nods. “Someone has to make sure you’re taking a break. Goddess knows you won’t do it on your own.”

He huffs a breath of indignation, but doesn’t argue with her. “It’s been busy. We are surprisingly not supplied for relief efforts.”

“I never would have expected you to be. However, everything is coming along quite nicely from what I’ve seen on the holonet.”

He huffs again. “That’s until they air the riots on tonight’s news.”

“Riots?” She asks and starts unbagging and unboxing their food. She didn’t get anything terribly fancy, just soup and melted cheese sandwiches. 

He nods solemnly. “That’s why I’m even further behind on requisitions than I wanted to be. I was helping the riot squads tame the masses.”

“Why are they rioting?”

“Because we don’t have enough!” He shouts before he steels himself behind the mask of indifference he usually wears. “Because we only have enough for one of everything per family right now. That includes large families. Families of eight or more people. We just don’t have enough.” He collapses into his chair and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m trying to order more supplies, but I can only be so many places at once.” 

Without much thought, Riyo reaches across the desk and rests a hand on his platoid-covered forearm. He must feel the movement through his armor because he raises his head from his hands and stares at her hand, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. 

“How can I help?” She asks, slowly dragging her hand down his forearm and to his hand. The fabric of his gloves is rough and clearly meant to have good grip, but she can feel his warmth radiating through, nonetheless. “Clearly you need it. You look like you haven’t slept in days. When was the last time you’ve eaten?” 

He slowly pulls his hand away while he glares at the piles of datapads on his desk. “I… haven’t slept in the last 36 hours and… I think I ate this morning?”

“Eat,” she orders, handing him a box of food. “Eat and take a moment for yourself. You cannot pour from an empty cup.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I really need to fill out these forms.”

“I could do it,” she offers. 

“They need to be signed by a clone commander,” he mutters, opening his box of food and staring at the golden sandwich neatly stacked upon fried potatoes. “This looks really good,” he says mostly to himself and, as the words fall from his lips, a monstrous roar rips from his stomach and he visibly hunches from the pang. 

“Eat,” she orders again, taking up all the datapads and neatly stacking them on a corner. She doesn’t have to tell him again as he tears into his food with a ferocity of a man who definitely didn’t eat this morning like he said he had. 

Swallowing, he glances up at her bashfully as if he is just now remembering his table manners. “How has your day been going?”

She hadn’t minded, really. They could have eaten in silence and she would have been happy anyway, simply because she would have known that he was fed and took a moment before diving into his interminable stream of datapads. Nodding, she chews on a fried potato. “Well. I spent some time with Sergeant Stride and his squad taking holos. I was hoping you could deliver one to him and his squad for me.”

His eyes go wide. “Wh-why are you doing all of these nice things?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Yes, but I can’t repay you for any of this. I have nothing to give you in return.”

Her stomach flips at the admission of being considered his friend. She steels herself, though, lest she smile like an absolute maniac. “Fox,” she reaches across the table more confidently this time and takes his free hand in her own. “You give me more than you could ever fathom. You forgave me when I wasn’t deserving of it and you accept me as myself. There is nothing more I could ask of you.”

The corner of his lips turn up and, squeezing her hand once before letting go, he rumbles, “Thank you anyway… your efforts are appreciated.”

She smiles. “You are very welcome.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a few moments; she is about halfway through her lunch when he closes his box and tosses it in the garbage can. “So tell me about these holos.”

She swallows. “They’re quite adorable. I have a holo of their squad that he asked me to deliver to you. The others, I was hoping to have your blessing to publish an article about.”

“An article?” He arches an eyebrow. 

Pulling out her datapad, she explains, “Here is the first draft. If you like it, I can approve it and it will be featured on tonight’s news cycle.”

He looks hesitant, but reads it anyway. “This… says nothing about the war.”

She shakes her head. “No, it speaks only to the valiant relief efforts you and your men have been putting forth.”

Shaking his head, he hands back her datapad. “I’m not certain how popular this article will be, it doesn’t frame us clones in a violent light.” She doesn’t miss the bitterness in his tone. 

“Well, that’s entirely the point. I want it to show how selfless and kind you and your men are.”

He eyes her. “And you want nothing in return for doing this?”

A small smile plays at her lips. “If you feel the desire to exchange something for this, even though I _insist_ it is just a kind act of friendship, then I will simply accept your companionship and stimulating conversation.”

He snorts. “I’m sure you can find more interesting conversations in the Senate halls.”

She rolls her eyes. “Believe it or not, I find conversations of the non-political variety quite riveting.”

“Then wait until I tell you about the thousands of crates of inventory I ordered today,” he smirks. 

She settles into her chair. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

~

A week goes by and holonet news outlets are still raving over clones being seen in a non-combat setting. Ash has become quite the holonews celebrity, although no one knows his name or number. They simply refer to him as the ‘clone with the child’. It’s so unoriginal it almost hurts, but it still pleases her that the news is not focused on the war for a little while. 

However, while public relations for the clones have seemed to improve, albeit slightly, the same cannot be said for her. She has made new friends, of course. Senator Amidala has invited her over for dinner several times; she is now cordial with both Senator Organa and Senator Mothma, but people still glare at her when she walks through the hallways. 

For some reason, they all believe that it is _she_ who tattled to the Chancellor. It wasn’t, but she will let them think that in order to protect Fox. He lives every day in enough danger as it is - whether it be caused by senatorial harassment or criminals of Coruscant. Some small part of her feels like she is shielding him and she wonders if anyone has done that for him. 

Then she thinks that she shouldn’t wonder about that. Fox had declared once before - early on in their friendship, when he was still uneasy around her - that he had no friends. Now that she knows him, or likes to think that she knows him, she _knows_ that this is impossible. He has to have friends, it is just possible that they are no longer alive, and that part hurts her more than any words anyone could yell at her. 

Riyo trudges down the hallway to the Rotunda. Ilona is off picking up her dry cleaning, meaning that Riyo is painfully aware of how alone she is. She forces her chin up, but can hear the other Senators murmuring and laughing. She is preparing to dart into the ladies room for just a moment of air, away from prying eyes, when a trooper steps up into her periphery. She looks up at him, readying herself to speak when he begins quietly. His helmet barely picks up the audio. 

“I heard some Senators saying some nasty things, ma’am. Don’t talk to me, I don’t want to give them anything else to talk about, but I’m going to escort you to your pod.”

“I--”

He shakes his head minutely. “No need for thanks or protesting, ma’am. We look out for our own.”

They step into the lift together. It is blissfully empty, thank the Goddess. “May I at least ask your name?” 

“Jek, ma’am. Rumors have been going around that you defend troopers. Thought I’d step in… show you that the entire guard has your back.”

Her heart swells. “I-I… I have no way to express my gratitude, Jek. But thank you.”

He nods and the lift doors open. Sure enough, he follows her to her pod and she has never felt safer. 

~

Fox looks down at his datapad, aghast. “Puck, what the hell is this?”

“Sir, it’s nose art for one of our gunships.”

Fox wipes his hand down his face. If he is being honest, it is _gorgeous_ , but it is so, _so_ inappropriate. Senator Riyo Chuchi, clad in a skimpy white robe is arched across a group of up-looking troopers with elegant white wings outstretched behind her. Below her it reads “Guardian Angel”. Fox blushes. 

Many of the men have started looking out for and up to Riyo. Everyone keeps a protective eye out for her because she has intervened on their behalf so many times. Also, her haranguing him into eating has become almost a legend among the ranks. Riyo Chuchi able to convince _Thee_ Commander Fox to take a breather? 

“Absolutely not,” Fox hands the datapad back to his Lieutenant. 

“Come on, sir. Yeah-yeah worked really hard on this, you can’t just tell him no.”

“Yes I can,” Fox gets up out of his chair. “Come on, we have a briefing to get to.”

“Will you at least consider it further?”

“No, no I will not.” Fox starts walking with Puck on his heels. 

“What if I told him to put more clothes on her?”

“The answer would still be no, Puck.” He keeps walking. 

“A less sexual position?”

Fox hadn’t considered the position too sexual, but now all he can picture is Riyo arching up in ecstasy. “No,” he barks. 

“What if we made it look _less_ like her.”

Fox stops walking, forcing troopers coming at them to walk around. “Puck, we don’t get to have nose art. What makes you think that is _suddenly_ going to change? We aren’t a combat battalion. We are the Guard. We are meant to be neutral and blend in.”

Puck sighs, but says nothing else as they enter into the briefing room. The three other commanders are already in attendance, waiting somewhat patiently. “Alright, men,” Fox announces as Puck slips silently between Stone and Thire. “Report in.”

Thorn goes first. “Senatorial relations continue to go smoothly, sir. Not many troopers have reported harassment by anyone.”

“But?” Fox asks, hearing the hesitation in Thorn’s voice. 

“But… Sir, this may be a little off topic, but I feel it is noteworthy as it is our duty to recognize at-risk senators.”

“Spit it out, Thorn,” Fox sighs, valiantly refraining from pinching his nose. First the nose art and now this. If this is about Riyo Chuchi he should go buy a lottery ticket with his nonexistent salary.

“Sir, my men have noticed an increase of harassment directed towards Senator Chuchi. She has been handling it like a champ and hasn’t bothered to report anything, but Jek did escort her to the general assembly this morning after he heard some senators talking about what should happen to people who snitch like her.”

“Snitch? What’re they talking about?”

“Everyone seems to think that she was the one who told the Chancellor that Senators are mistreating the boys.”

Fox blinks several times. He said that, not her. Why was she being harassed for it? Most importantly, why didn’t she _say_ anything? 

“Commander?” Thorn prompts. 

“Sorry,” he shakes his head. “What else is new?”

Thorn finishes up and Stone begins discussing prison transfers and after that, Puck addresses spice trafficking levels and after _that_ , Thire briefs the room on the success of their rebuilding efforts. Fox, throughout each _very_ important presentation, tries to keep his focus, but all he can think about is Riyo Chuchi. 

He just can’t wrap his head around why she would be taking the fall for something she didn’t do. He decides then, that his duty as her friend is to check in on her. Surely, he can make it look like a routine check up, perhaps he can make a false traffic violation that he needs to clarify because her flying record is absolutely spotless. 

He’ll figure it out, and as soon as the briefings end, he slips out under the guise of “checking something in the senate hall”. If the men see through his lie, they don’t say anything. 

~

Fox stands outside her chambers and knocks politely. Two, crisp, light knocks. Tucking his arms behind him, he settles in to wait for permission, but he doesn’t end up waiting that long when the door slides open, revealing her aid, Ilona. 

“Commander,” she greets, not stepping aside to let him enter. 

“Ma’am. I was hoping to see Senator Chuchi if she is available.”

The woman steps aside, letting him in. He takes two steps over the threshold, but doesn’t move past the entryway. “I don’t have an appointment for you on her schedule, Commander.”

He nods. He thought of this already and while he would normally have a lie at the ready, this time he finds himself telling the truth. Unlike his brothers, he has always been a good liar, but the thought of lying about Riyo twists his gut. “I’m simply here to discuss her safety, ma’am. I heard that there have been… situations within the Senate halls.”

Arching a delicate, lilac brow, the woman purses her lips and folds her arms across her chest. “I believe that those situations to which you are referring are in direct correlation to her friendship to you, Commander.” The end of her accusation lilts up in question to his name. 

“CC-1010,” he answers. “I understand, ma’am. That’s why I am here.”

The woman steps closer, scowling up at his helmet visor. “I don’t think you do. Riyo is my _best_ friend. I will not lose her to some man like you, if I can even call you that.”

Fox sucks in a deep breath. “My sentiency is not in question right now, ma’am. Riyo’s safety is. Perhaps that is something that we can both agree is important.”

She steps back, her face no longer pinched in anger. “Your name… it’s Fox, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“She should be finishing up a call with the acting Chairman of Pantora. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The woman swooshes away, a dramatic display of indigo. Fox stands in the entryway and slowly allows himself to merge into the front sitting room. She has really spruced up the place since he first deposited her here months ago. The walls, which were once a dull cream are now painted a rich maroon. The floor is still the dull Republic-beige but now she has a midnight blue rug placed in the center of the seating area. There are two golden couches and one glass coffee table in between them. In the center of the coffee table is a viney plant that Fox can’t identify, but he assumes it is something native to Pantora. 

“Commander.” He hears the familiar chime of Riyo’s voice and spins around to see her waiting at the doorway of her formal office. Her chambers are unlike some senators’, having been built at the beginning of the Republic. In the newer wing - the one that so happened to have been decimated by the Zillo Beast - the chambers have an open floor plan; whereas Riyo’s office is old and still has a separate sitting room for discussions and entertaining apart from the area for her desk and business. 

“Senator,” he nods. She looks lovely, not like her life is any danger at all. Her mauve hair is pinned up and she wears the same outfit she wore the first day he met her, a burgundy suit, but a different pair of black shoes. 

He wonders what happened to her scuffed ones. 

“What a lovely surprise,” she motions for him to come into her office and he does. She enters after him, closing the door. “I’m sorry if Ilona gave you too much trouble. Tea?”

He shakes his head and removes his helmet. Normally, he would keep it on, but regulations be damned. He wants to _see_ her and he needs her to see him. He wants her to lie to his face. 

He needs her to prove to him that this friendship isn’t real. Because he is starting to enjoy her company and look forward to seeing her and that makes him nervous. He wants something, _anything_ to prove to him that this has all been in his head. 

“No thank you,” he says. 

With a slight shrug she pours herself a cup and sits in her chair, motioning for him to take the one across from her. He does and suddenly feels bad for making her sit in his rickety guest chair - this is a far cry more comfortable than his _own_ chair. 

“What can I do for you, Commander?” She sips her tea, her golden owl eyes peering at him over the rim. 

“I told the Chancellor about the harassment,” he confesses. 

She sets her tea cup down on her desk and nods. “I know.”

“You do?”

She nods. “It didn’t take much to figure it out.”

“Is there anything you would like to tell me?”

She turns a darker shade of blue and looks away. More specifically, she looks at a small framed photo on her desk. It is of her and a male Pantoran. He is kissing her on the temple, the same double arches are on his cheeks, and her face is scrunched up in a smile. “I thought… I thought that if I let them think that I was the one who ‘tattled’… that I would be protecting you in some indirect manner.”

That sounds… like the truth. 

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until this moment. He exhales slowly through his nose. “I don’t need protecting.” He pauses. “Why didn’t you say anything to me the other day?”

She looks up to him. “What?”

“When you came to my office. Why didn’t you say anything about the harassment? I thought we were friends… And I don’t have many of those, but I think harassment is something you would tell a friend about.”

She captures her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re right. I should have said something… But I didn’t want to add one more trouble to your already overflowing plate.”

He nods slowly. “May I speak plainly?” 

“Always, you never have to ask for permission with me.”

“We’re _friends_. Any trouble of yours will always receive my fullest attention. Even if you just want to complain about pinchy shoes.”

She smirks. “Noted, Commander.”

He can’t help but return her smile. “Next time, don’t be afraid to talk to me, alright? I think I scare enough people as it is. Don’t need to add you to the list.”

She grins. “I will.”

With a glance at his chrono he stands and she does the same. “I’m sorry to cut this visit short. But I need to get going. If the harassment becomes anything more than verbal threats, please let me know immediately. The men of the Coruscant Guard don’t want to lose their guardian angel.”

“Fox,” she says, grabbing his wrist. His heart races. She’s touching him. Purposefully. It has happened three times now. Three times she has taken his hand as if he couldn’t snap her neck effortlessly with them. Three times she has touched him as if he were some _one_ and not some _thing_. “A… a trooper said something to me the other day. He said that you protect your own in regards to my safety.”

Fox nods slowly. “We do.”

“But… I’m just a Senator.”

“Maybe…” Fox pauses. She considers herself _just_ a Senator, but he can already confidently say that she is so much more. She is infinitely more than _just_ a Senator. She is a good person. “But you watch their back, so of course they have yours.” He smirks. “You have hundreds of brothers ready to go to battle for you.”

He doesn’t know if it is a trick of the light or if maybe his eyes are deceiving him, but it looks like she is about to cry. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “Have a wonderful rest of your day, my dear friend.”

Slipping on his helmet, he gives her a crisp nod and stalks past Ilona and out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Things are finally HAPPENING!!! I'm so excited :3
> 
> Now, with [ art](https://amukmuk.tumblr.com/post/635129418765959168/fox-looks-down-at-his-datapad-aghast-puck-what)! Thank you so much @lilhawkeye3 it's amazing! <33


	8. Step by Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the chapter there are panic attack like descriptions. If you would like to not read this, please stop reading after the group chat.

Fox wipes his hands down his face and glares at the empty cup of caf taunting him on the corner of his desk. It has been almost two weeks since the Zillo Beast decimated most of the Senatorial district and lower levels, yet Fox still feels himself burning out. As Commander of the Guard he gets little sleep as it is, but trying to rebuild Coruscant while making sure no one gets assassinated or kidnapped in the chaos is finally driving him to insanity. 

He just wants to take a nap.

Maybe go for a run. 

He has reached the point where he is so mentally exhausted from sitting behind his desk filling out countless forms, writing numerous briefings, scheduling infinite escorts for Senators, that his body is jittery. 

Or maybe it is just the 12 cups of caf he has had today. 

That cup is really starting to tempt him into a 13th with maybe a splash of brandy. 

Someone knocks on his door and he tries not to groan. Emergencies normally come to his comm, requests for more clerical assistance normally come to his door. 

He has no desire to assist in whatever clerical nightmare awaits behind the durasteel door. 

“Come in,” he says, trying his best not to sound exasperated. 

Once his eyes fall upon the non-trooper form awaiting him, however, all his dread washes away. Standing there, carrying a to-go bag and a tray of what definitely looks like caf - thank the stars - is Riyo Chuchi. 

He could kiss the ground she walks on. 

“Senator,” he greets, standing from his chair. He is almost positive that he is grinning like a tooka, but he can’t help it. The prospect of a break and eating with Riyo has given him a glimmer of hope in a sea of endless flimsiwork. 

“Commander.” She returns his smile and walks into the office, setting the bag on the guest chair. “I come bearing gifts.”

“I see that.”

“I hope you are fond of salad. I had a craving for leafy greens.”

“I’m just hoping that caf is in one of those cups.”

She grins and hands him the larger of the two. “I hope you like it. I don’t know your caf order.”

“Black like my soul.”

This elicits a laugh from her and his heart stutters. She has a truly beautiful laugh, one that is high pitched and a little nasally and, for a brief moment, he is surprised he has the ability to make her do so. He is just a soldier - his skills include killing, signing forms, and making too-strong caf. Admittedly, he does make the caf too strong on purpose to prevent the men from drinking it. 

More for him, selfishly. 

Though he feels no remorse for that. 

“How are you doing today?” She asks, setting his food in front of him and settling into the rickety chair with her own. 

“Well,” he sighs. “Do you want the truth or a canned answer?”

“Always the truth.”

“My day has been shit. If I fill out one more requisition form, I’m liable to go cross-eyed.”

She laughs again and his heart does that same flip. “Well, it appears I came at just the right time, didn’t I?”

He nods and takes a bite of his salad. It is definitely leafy _and_ green, two things he hasn’t had much experience with in regards to cuisine within the GAR. With his tentative bite, he realizes that it is covered in some sort of tangy dressing. It’s good, but definitely catches him by surprise. “Yes,” he says after he swallows. “Which leads me to ask what the purpose of your visit is today.”

She smiles. “Just stopping by to make sure you eat and look away from your datapads for a while. Wouldn’t want the Commander of the Guard to become cross-eyed.”

He pauses. “Really?”

“Yes, it would be very bad if you went cross-eyed--” 

“No, I mean… you’re just stopping by? No article for me to approve, no harassment to report?”

A smile creeps up onto her lilac lips, but then again he’s not certain if it has ever left her face since she arrived. “No. Just one friend caring about another.”

He nods slowly. “Thank you.”

The inkling of a smile blooms into a full grin. “Of course, what are friends for?”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response because all of the friends he has ever had, have died for him and he’s almost one hundred percent certain that a comment like that would kill the mood like a well-aimed sniper bolt to the brain. “Any exciting news on your end?” He asks instead, taking another bite of the salad. 

She shrugs while she finishes chewing. “No… unless you count the possibility of an affair within the senate.”

Fox arches an eyebrow. 

“I heard that the Senator from Balosar is sleeping with the aid from Jerrilek. What are their names?”

“Senator Azah Bryne and the aid is Jaina Farlance.” 

Riyo reels back in surprise. “You know this?”

Fox sighs. “Unfortunately, I know very well the intricacies of sexual relations between the senators and aids.”

She leans in. “Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not one for gossip.”

“But?”

“But…” he smirks. “I think I can trust you to keep a secret.”

She grins deviously and draws and ‘x’ over her heart.

~

Riyo and Ilona walk through the halls to the pod for the General Assembly meeting. “I think you’ve lost your mind,” Ilona states. 

“Why?” Riyo asks, appalled. 

“Trying to write a peace treaty? Visiting clones _alone_?”

“First of all, the peace treaty is what the Republic needs. Secondly,” Riyo pauses when two Senators glance at her and snicker. “Secondly, clones are not as dangerous as the holonet make them out to be.”

“They were literally created for war, Ri’chka.”

“Ilona,” Riyo warns. “I get enough harassment and naysaying from everyone here. Can’t we just agree to table this issue? I am choosing to respectfully disagree with you. Everyone deserves to be treated with basic sentient rights, including clones. Besides,” Riyo starts walking again. “What would Royan do?” 

Ilona looks away, refusing to look at her. “He would do the right thing.”

Riyo nods. “Exactly.”

She knows it was a low blow, but it had needed to be said. Ilona has been flopping back and forth on this issue enough to make her head spin. And Riyo knew that if she brought him up, the disagreement would die then and there. The topic of Royan is a sore one; neither of them ever willingly choose to discuss him. After so many years - nearly five - they can hardly stand to say his name. 

Even now, it feels as if a Talz spear has been lodged in her ribcage. 

~

“Puck,” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose. “What am I looking at?”

“Well, we thought that our barracks could use some sprucing, sir.”

Fox looks back to the datapad holding another digital rendition of Senator Chuchi, again depicted as an angel. There are no troopers around her this time. She is wearing white clone armor - if it can even be called that with how little of her is _actually_ protected - posed in a way that can only be described as lewd. “So you decided to draw porn featuring a senator.”

Puck scoffs. “This is hardly porn, sir.”

Fox arches an eyebrow. “Consider the next words that come out of your mouth very carefully, Lieutenant.”

He visibly swallows and nods. “Duly noted, sir. I will have them draw up another sketch.” He takes the datapad back from the commander. 

“I think that would be best.”

~

Fox finds himself back in his office. It’s Thursday again and he kicks back in his chair, staring at the unimpressive, speckled ceiling above him. The harsh fluorescents sting his eyes, but he welcomes the pain. 

It’s really the only thing keeping him awake at this point. 

He hasn’t slept in 48 hours and he hasn’t eaten in at least 14. 

His stomach rumbles as a reminder and he sits up to finally venture to get food when his datapad pings with a new notification. Audibly groaning, he falls back down in his chair and reads the message now interrupting what would have been lunch. 

_Commander,_

_Supreme Chancellor Palpatine would like data and statistics regarding rebuilding and crime increase. Please have this report done by EOD._

_Tifa Faselli_

_Office of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine_

Fox groans again and lets his head fall against the cool durasteel of his desk. He has been monitoring both of those things, but now he has to find correlations. 

He would quite literally rather die. 

There is a knock on his door and he looks to the heavens, hoping that perhaps his mental plea for salvation has been answered. 

“Come in,” he says. 

The door whirls open and Riyo Chuchi stands there, holding food and caf. 

Praise every god, goddess, deity, star, moon, whatever. “Riyo.” He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. 

“Fox,” she greets, entering and setting everything down on the desk. “I heard about the foot chase last night on the holonet. How are you doing?”

He shrugs. Thankfully, no one had been injured but two speeders had been destroyed after the chase had gone on for nearly three hours. He is exhausted, worn to the bone, he’s pretty sure he has a sprained ankle, and he’s _starving_. “I’m alive,” he answers after a minute. “And you?”

“I share your sentiments,” she falls down into the chair. 

“Bad day?” He asks. As the question rolls from his tongue, he realizes how much he _wants_ to hear about her day. Not only this, but he realizes he wants to solve all of her problems. If a senator is harassing her, Fox will find so many charges to bring up against the sack of hot air that they will be wading through judicial red tape for the rest of their term. 

“Just a day full of work,” Riyo clarifies and Fox can feel himself relaxing. At least she isn’t in trouble. “Padmé and I are presenting our proposal for a peace treaty tomorrow. We are going over final little things. I don’t have much time, but I wanted to check on you.”

“Believe me, it’s appreciated. I haven’t eaten in almost 14 hours.”

“And you look like you haven’t slept in twice as many,” she comments as she hands him a box of some delicious substance. A sandwich, he realizes after he opens it. 

“That bad, huh?” He asks. 

She nods and he notices the bags under her eyes as well. Looks like they have both been overworked and underpaid. They eat in silence mostly, neither of them having much to say or both too tired to say it. 

Just as he takes the last bite of his sandwich, his commlink chirps, stirring both of them from the recesses of their minds. “Fox,” he speaks into his vambrace. 

“Commander, this is Puck. We have a mob of looters in quadrant 72-C.”

Fox pinches his nose. “Set up a protective perimeter around civvies. Call for reinforcements. I’ll be there in five.”

“Yessir.”

Riyo stands with him. “Duty calls?”

“Always,” he mutters, slipping on his helmet. 

She places a gentle hand on his upper arm and his stomach flips. No matter how many times she touches him, it always stirs his insides. “Stay safe, okay?”

He nods, but doesn’t make a promise that he can’t keep as he sweeps out to deal with yet another Coruscanti crisis. 

~

Fox stumbles into his office four hours later, dead on his feet. Collapsing into his chair, he glares at the datapad waiting for him; he still needs to write the report for the Chancellor by the end of the day. However, a small shine under the fluorescents catches his eyes and he turns to look at the corner of his desk. 

Resting there, neatly wrapped in plasticine, is a cookie of some kind and a folded note resting beside it. His heart stutters and he opens the note.

_Fox,_

_I’m sorry our lunch was cut short. I felt like we both could have used the time to decompress before another hectic week is upon us. I hope you return healthy and safe. Please take a moment to drink a cup of caf and eat this sweet treat before you dive back into your forms. Take care of yourself. You cannot pour from an empty cup._

_Your friend,_

_Riyo_

By the time he reads the closing salutation - all written in perfect, swooping cursive - a full smile has illuminated his face. The normal line of stress in between his brows has smoothed, and his eyes now crinkle with joy. 

He does exactly as she asked in her letter. He pours himself a cup of caf and sits down with his cookie and her note. He reads it three more times while he rests. And, feeling slightly more rejuvenated, he begins his reports with renewed vigor. 

~

Ilona helps pin Riyo’s hair up into the golden headpiece. It’s a more elaborate hairdo than what she normally wears, but today is a more important day than most. Today, she and Padmé are presenting their legislation for a peace treaty. If they get the appropriate amount of votes, they could end the war. 

They could have peace. 

Her datapad pings with a notification and Riyo stretches to pick it up from the vanity in front of her. 

_Senator Chuchi,_

_I wish you the best of luck on your presentation of your peace legislation. If you are half as good at public speaking as you are defending troopers, the entire galaxy will have no choice but to vote in favor._

_Respectfully,_

_Commander Fox_

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time,” Ilona comments from behind her. 

Riyo looks up into the mirror and sees Ilona smirking as if she knows all of Riyo’s deepest, darkest secrets. “What?”

“Look at you, you’re grinning like a love-struck school girl.”

“I am not love-struck,” Riyo rolls her eyes and sets down the datapad. 

Ilona arches an eyebrow. 

“I am not! The Commander and I are simply friends, that is all.”

Ilona hums disbelievingly. “Friends with a standing lunch date.”

“Yes, well, I’m just looking out for everyone’s safety by keeping the Commander well fed.”

“What is his name again?”

“Fox.”

“Fox and Riyo sittin’ in a tree--”

Riyo stands up and playfully smacks her friend. “You stop that! Stop that right now!”

~

Fox exits his office, reading the Chancellor’s comments regarding safety in Coruscant. Monday, he will have to go and give a proper briefing, of which he needs to inform Fort, since he keeps his schedule for the most part… 

A gaggle of troopers are huddled around the front desk of the Coruscant Guard Office, where their one and only holoprojector is. Fort is humming absent-mindedly into his headset, but his attention is also clearly on the projector. 

“What is this?”

All fifteen men hush him and he has never been more ready to call everyone to attention and perform a random inspection. “Sir, our girl is giving it to ‘em,” Wise states. 

All of them nod and refuse to tear their eyes away from the holo. Out of sheer curiosity, Fox leans it to watch as well. 

Riyo Chuchi and Padmé Amidala’s pods are in the center of the Rotunda. Riyo is standing with her back completely erect, but her hands are moving animatedly. Her hair is pinned up perfectly into two rolls, one on each side of her head, and the chimes hanging from the hair piece seem to be just as passionate on the subject as she is. 

“Our galaxy is tearing itself apart. Each one of us owes it to our people to strive for peace. Only the Banking Clan and Trade Federation are benefiting from this war and that is because they are playing both sides!”

“Liar!”

“Idealist!”

Various shouts of dissent fill the Rotunda, but she continues. “Ask yourself, would you rather your people die due to a war they may not win or settle for peace they can see in their lifetime? Isn’t it time we stop the ever increasing amount of casualties?”

“Oya, Senator,” Wise grins.

A smirk tweaks Fox’s lips. 

That’s their girl. 

~

Fox makes his way through the Senate Hall to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s office. Ahead of him, he sees a small blue form and decides to hasten his pace so that he can catch up with her. “Good morning, Senator,” he greets. 

She flinches before realizing that it is him and a smile draws up her lilac lips. “Good morning, Commander.”

The flinch worries him, however, and he quickly scans the hall for potential threats. It is mostly empty, only two senators deep in discussion far behind them. They aren’t alone, but they might as well be at this early hour.

“How did your legislation fare?” He asks as they walk. 

She slumps visibly and Fox has the overwhelming urge to draw her to the side of the hall and ask her to speak her troubles away. He has broad shoulders, he can carry her worries, too. 

“It didn’t pass,” she finally mumbles. 

“What?” He asks. 

“It didn’t pass.”

“I-I’m sorry, I thought for sure it would.”

“Well, apparently people value their pocket books more than their morals.”

He nods solemnly. “I have a new bottle of brandy in my office. It was a gift.”

“A gift?”

“A bribe.”

“A bribe?” She asks incredulously. 

“Shhh,” he hushes, smirking even though she can’t see it. “I just had to vow my discretion when I stumbled across a certain senator hooking up with a _different_ aid in a closet that I happened to walk into.” 

“I feel as if there is more to that story, Commander.”

“Come by tonight?” He asks, hopeful. Of course, he probably has a thousand other things he could be doing - sleeping being one of them - but he really likes the idea of sharing his newest prized possession with her. 

“And miss the story of how you apprehended some brandy? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Great,” he is smiling in earnest and they move to split ways, her heading towards the agricultural politics committee and him to the Chancellor’s office. 

“Great,” she beams. 

~

That night, Riyo rushes around getting ready. Her committee meeting ran over, not that her and Fox had decided on a time, but the sun has set and it is nearly ten in the evening. “Ilona!” She calls. 

Her friend comes rushing in. 

“Does this look okay? Or does this look too casual?” Riyo does a small twirl to show her outfit. She is wearing her favorite maroon skirt and her _new_ lucky black shoes. Instead of her usual matching suit jacket, though, she is wearing a sleeveless cream blouse.

Ilona arches a delicate mauve brow, “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m… I’m meeting with Fox.”

“At ten on a Monday?”

Riyo nods slowly. “Yes.”

“Ri’chka. Do you really think that is a good idea?” 

“Wh-Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Ri’chka. Think with your brain. Clones are known for… you know.” She waves her hands as if that is going to clarify her vaguery. 

“No. I really don’t.”

“Fucking women in bars, Riyo. There. I said it.”

Riyo stands there, appalled. She can’t even muster the brain power to close her agape mouth. 

“What were you two planning on doing tonight?”

“I was… going to meet him in his office for a drink.”

Ilona huffs. “Alone?”

Riyo nods. 

“Riyo, have you lost your damn mind!?” Ilona explodes. “This is not some fairytale. He is not some knight in shining armor and this story will not have a happy ending! What do you think he was going to do once he got you drunk, and _alone_ in his office?” Ilona whips around, her back facing Riyo, and a small hiccup of a sob escapes between her lips. 

“I-I never thought--”

“That’s right. You didn’t _think_. Goddess, you’re a damn idealist like your brother and that’s what got him _killed_ and it’s going to happen to you too if you don’t get your head out of the stars!” 

“Ilona,” Riyo rasps, taking a step closer to her friend. 

“I can’t lose you too,” she whispers. “I can’t lose the love of my life and my best friend because they are too good to see the evil in this galaxy.”

“I’ll cancel plans with him. Let’s just… Let’s cuddle and watch a holodrama. Yeah?” Riyo nudges her friend and she spins around, capturing Riyo in her embrace. 

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Ilona murmurs. 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I suppose I probably needed to hear it.”

They move to sit on the plush purple couch, the one Fox had ordered specially for her, in her living room before turning on the holo projector. 

~

It’s Thursday and usually, that means that Riyo brings him lunch. Or, at least she has for the past three Thursdays. However, after her last minute cancellation on Monday, he is concerned. Not concerned enough to ask her about it, they both have rather demanding occupations, but something in the back of his mind is gnawing at him, nevertheless. 

His commlink chirps and he sighs. Maybe he can get Fort to let her know he has been called away with business. 

“Fox,” he says. 

“Commander, there is a Pantoran lady here demanding to speak to you, but it isn’t Senator Chuchi, sir.”

Fox sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Send her back.”

Not a minute later his door is whirling open without a knock as a tall Pantoran storms into his office like a raging Kaminoan hurricane. “Miss Minarek, what can I do for you?”

“What game are you playing at?” She demands. 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Ma’am?”

“Inviting _Senator_ Chuchi out for drinks. What game are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything. Senator Chuchi is a friend; she had a rough day and I had a bottle of brandy.” He shrugs. 

She marches up to him and points a slender finger at his chest. “You are a disgusting animal. She is being harassed because of _you_.”

He unfolds his arms and she reels back, petrified of being struck by him. His stomach twists with disgust. He is used to people being scared of him, but it still hurts. He has already had a long day, and he can feel his grip on his temper slip.

“I know what your intentions were with _my_ Riyo and I am revolted. The Chancellor _will_ hear about this.”

That’s it. Fox takes two steps and looms over her. “First of all, how dare you come into my office and make baseless accusations? You didn’t even fucking knock. You call me an animal, but you act like you were raised in a fucking _barn_. Secondly, Riyo is a _friend_. And only that. I don’t need to explain why I don’t have many of those. Thirdly, every clone in the Guard worships the ground that woman walks on because she has a heart of gold. Unlike yourself. So go ahead, tell the Chancellor. At least I got to say my piece before they decommission me.”

Ilona opens her mouth and closes it.

Fox watches her for a moment before he turns and sits at his desk. “Would you like to further insult me in my own office?” He asks. “Or are you done?” 

She opens her mouth again. “I’m done,” she whispers. 

“The door is behind you. I assume you can see yourself out.” 

She nods and turns. Before she goes, she whispers. “Riyo is running late in a meeting. She messaged me to ask you if it would be okay if she stopped by in an hour or so.”

He nods crisply. “Yes. That will be fine.”

She says nothing else and leaves him fuming and slightly worried for the length of his guaranteed short life. 

~

Riyo rushes into the Coruscant Guard Office. She feels terrible for being late, not that she’s late. These dates are never actually scheduled. And they most certainly aren’t dates. 

She charges in and sees Fort, on a call as per usual. They give each other a cordial nod as she rushes past to Fox’s office. She knows the hall like the back of her hand now, but she chooses not to dignify that thought currently. 

She knocks on his door and bounces on the pads of her feet lightly. 

“Enter.”

Oh. Oh he sounds very, very angry. She palms the keypad and the door hisses open, revealing a very disgruntled Commander. “Are you alright?” She asks. 

He looks up from his datapad. “Fine.”

Is he upset for her being late? Is he upset about her cancelling on Monday? Has the Chancellor requested more rush reports? 

“I’m sorry I’m late and I’m sorry about Monday. I - uh - Ilona convinced me to stay in for the night, she wasn’t feeling very well.”

That wasn’t the truth, but it also wasn’t a lie. Ilona had cried most of the night, but so had she. Remembering Royan did that to them. 

“I’m sure she did,” he mutters. He throws down his datapad and scrubs his face. 

“I asked her to come by and apologize for me. Was she able to find your office alright?”

He keeps his hands over his nose and mouth, but his brows are furrowed, casting a harsh shadow across his dark and stormy eyes. “Yes she did,” he sighs, removing his hands from his face. He looks like he is barely keeping a lid on himself and her stomach lurches. She has seen him angry a handful of times, but this feels different.

Opening the bag, she says, “There is something you’re not telling me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look about as disgruntled as I do before my first cup of tea in the morning.”

He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smirk, nothing. Something is definitely wrong. When they first met and their friendship was nothing more than a seed planted, Fox had kept his emotions firmly locked behind a wall of ‘unimpressed’. However, over the past month, she has watched in awe as he has opened up, smiling at her silly jokes and, if she is _really_ good, she can elicit a tiny chuckle from him as well. 

“Fox,” she reaches across the table to take up his hand and he withdraws. Her stomach twists with worry. Rapid fire, she flips through everything she could have said, everything she could have done. Does he not want to be friends anymore? “Fox, is everything alright?”

“What are your opinions of me?”

Oh. That is not where she thought this was going.

“That… that you’re my friend. I’ve considered you a friend since I landed here, though I can’t say I was a very good one at the start.”

He softens. “I just,” he sighs, his shoulders sagging with defeat. “Nevermind.”

“No, please. Please talk to me. You don’t have to carry your worries alone.”

His deep eyes meet hers. “I’m tired.”

“Then sleep, we can do lunch tomorrow.” She moves to stand and this time he catches her wrist. Her stomach flips and her heart races in the millisecond before he snatches his hand back, as if her skin had burned him. “Fox?” She whispers. 

“I’m tired of people… assuming that… assuming the worst of me.”

Riyo sits back, finally connecting the dots. “What did Ilona say to you?”

Fox’s head snaps up and his eyes search her expression before he carefully lies. “She didn’t--”

“Don’t lie to me,” she warns. 

He sighs and scrubs his face again. “She didn’t say anything that I haven’t heard before.”

Riyo curses under her breath. “I’m sorry Fox, I’m sorry she said anything to you. It wasn’t my intention to send her in here to berate you.”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t exactly nice either.”

Riyo arches an eyebrow carefully. 

With a huff, he elaborates, “I didn’t exactly earn my fearsome reputation by being a tooka-kitten, alright?”

She giggles. “The Fearsome Commander Fox, only coaxed into taking breaks by a small Pantoran woman and compares himself to kittens.”

He smirks and she is overjoyed to see him relax slightly. “I know. I’m quite a sight to behold.”

Grinning, she looks to her plate. “Eat your food, Fox.”

~

Fox isn’t rushing. No, it is bad for commanders to rush through their very important paperwork. But if his signatures look sloppier, it is definitely not because he is spending half the time on it. If anyone asks, though, he will say that his wrist was cramping. 

When Riyo knocks on the door, he tells her to come in as he stacks up the last of the flimsi and puts it away. She glides in with her usual poise and sets her things in her chair. He frowns. These lunches have been going on for the past month and a half, he should really consider buying another office chair for her. 

No, not for her. He has plenty of other guests. 

“How are you?” he asks. 

“I’m well.” She passes him his food and is excited to see that it is Pantoran Pita once again. “And you?” 

“Good, two of my batchmates are shoreside. I’m hoping to catch up with them tonight or tomorrow.”

“Oh? May I ask who?” 

“Commanders Bly and Wolffe.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know their names.”

“You wouldn’t. They are out fighting in the outer rim more often than not.”

She nods slowly and he can tell she wants to say something but is afraid of how to phrase it. He waits patiently, though, letting the silence fall peacefully between them. “Batchmates… Those are people you are born with?”

“Decanted.”

She nods again, slowly. “May I ask a personal question?”

He shrugs in response. 

“Do you like being a clone?”

“Do you like being a Pantoran?” He asks in return. 

“Of course, I’m proud of my people and I’m proud of my heritage.”

“So am I.”

“But you don’t have any heritage.” 

If it were anyone else, he _might_ have been offended by that statement. But this is Riyo, and there isn’t a mean bone in her body. Any misconception she has is through no fault of her own. “Sure we do, we speak mando’a and we grew up together even if it was shortened by half.”

“Half?”

“We age in an accelerated manner. I’m biologically 24, but I’ve only existed for twelve years.”

She gasps. “And we almost went drinking.”

“My bottle of brandy is the only reason I’m sane, thank you.”

She giggles and Fox’s heart lurches. Like usual, when she comes to visit, they talk briefly on various topics. She discusses her plans for the weekend - her and Ilona are going shopping. And, in typical Riyo fashion, she asks if there is anything she can get him while she is out. He politely declines because even if she did get him something, he technically wouldn’t be able to keep it. Food is a good exception to the rule, however, because it can be eaten and of all evidence disposed. 

When she leaves after their usual standard hour together, however, Fox is suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of melancholy. He likes listening to her talk. It’s no secret that she does most of the talking while they’re together. She has the better stories, anyhow. While he may have juicy gossip, most of his day-to-day is filling out various forms and getting harassed. 

No one wants to listen to that. 

So, when she is gone and he is trying to figure out why he feels that way, he pulls up the catalog on his datapad. He orders her a nice chair, one in which she can curl up comfortably as she is constantly tucking one of her legs under her while she sits and chats. 

~

Fox begrudgingly gets dragged to 79’s by his two batchmates. He has flimsiwork he needs to finish and he is already exhausted enough as it is, but when his brothers came and practically dragged him out of his office by the pauldron, he couldn’t really resist them. He listens intently as they excitedly tell him tales from across the galaxy. 

Bly informs him of the ship crash they managed to survive. Most of the story sounds pretty straight forward until he starts fawning over how General Secura saved his life not once, but _twice_. 

“She just scooped me up into her arms and we swung on a vine back up to the tree,” he sighs dramatically and rests his chin in his hand and his elbow on the bar. 

“Fuck, Bly you’re such a simp,” Wolffe chuckles. 

“I am not! I _respect_ my General,” he argues. “She is the bravest, most intelligent, most beautiful woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting.”

Fox begs to differ. He happens to know a brave, intelligent, beautiful woman. And, he’s almost certain that if compared to General Secura, Senator Chuchi would shine infinitely brighter. 

Wolffe rolls his eyes and looks to Fox. “What about you, Fox? Any interesting stories?”

Bly huffs a laugh. “It’s Fox, Wolffe. Nothing exciting happens on Coruscant.”

He scoffs. “That’s not all true. We had to battle the Zillo Beast here, on the most populated planet in the Republic. That’s pretty exciting.”

“Oh yeah, Ponds and Rex were talking about that.”

Fox nods and takes a sip of his beer. 

“Come on you have to have something else to share,” Bly prods. 

Fox shrugs. He doesn’t exactly want to talk about his feelings regarding Riyo, but it is a somewhat interesting story. “A senator has started defending my men when other Senators start being shitheads.”

Both of them reel back, but Wolffe is the one to speak first. “A senator?’

“Defending clones?” Bly prompts

Fox nods. “She even brings us food every once in a while.”

Bly gets a devilish grin, “ _She?”_

“Oh leave him alone, Bly, not everyone is interested in banging the first beautiful woman who is nice to him.”

“Does _she_ have a name?” Bly goads, wagging his eyebrows and ignoring Wolffe. 

Fox is getting ready to open his mouth and tell him it's none of his damn business when his commlink chirps. “Sorry guys, duty calls.”

They both give him quick hugs, telling him to stay safe and Fox heads out to deal with an assassination attempt. 

~

Riyo and Ilona enter the fancy upper level boutique and the clerk is immediately on them, asking if they need help and offering to hold their purses. 

“Oh we are just looking,” Riyo says. 

“Actually, I’m looking for a dress for a formal event,” Ilona corrects. 

Riyo wants to kick herself for forgetting. They had planned this girls day mostly as an olive branch, but also because Ilona is returning to Pantora in a couple weeks to represent Riyo at the coronation of their new chairman. It has been nearly four standard months, but finally a proper candidate was proclaimed and Chairman Papanoida has taken his place upon the throne of Pantora’s General Assembly. Traditionally, Riyo would go and express her congratulations, but there is a vote the week from next and she will be needed here. Therefore, Ilona volunteered to go in her stead. 

The clerk guides them to the formal dresses and informs the pair to ask if they need any further assistance. They silently flip through the racks when Riyo finally speaks. “Thank you, by the way, for going to Pantora for me.”

Ilona smiles softly. “Of course, it will be nice to be home. Coruscant is an unholy temperature.”

Riyo nods in agreement. 

“Besides, I would have done it even if you didn’t have a vote. I know how much you hate rubbing elbows.”

Riyo sighs. “I just hate pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Ilona smiles sadly. “I guess that’s why I’m better at it. It’s so much easier to be someone else. I’m… not that great.”

Riyo’s hand freezes on a hanger. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Ri’chka, I’m so sorry.” Her face crinkles and she turns away. 

Riyo scurries around to her friend and takes up her elbows. “Lona. Lona’chka, don’t. Hey, it’s okay.”

“I treated him just like all the Senators treat you. I’m no better.”

“No, no, you can’t think that. You _are_ better because you realize what you did is wrong and you’re working towards being better. That’s all we can ask… and I’m certain that if you go to Fox he’ll forgive you. He’s not a monster… After all, he forgave me.”

Ilona wipes her eyes hastily and huffs a wet laugh. “You act like you’re some sort of unforgivable beast.”

Riyo reaches up to swipe off a run of mascara from her friend’s face. “Maybe not… but I can hardly forgive myself for standing by for so long. Everyone deserves love. Including those owned by the Republic.”

“Ri’chka you're going to change the galaxy one day.”

“I can only hope.”

In the end, Ilona buys a beautiful, maroon gown. It has long, lace sleeves and a simple a-line cut that flatters her tall, slender frame. Giggling like school girls getting ready to go to their university ball, they jump in their speeder, buy four bottles of wine and spend the rest of their evening painting each other’s nails. 

~

Riyo prances into the Coruscant Guard office. She has an idea. Normally, she brings him lunch, but there is a particular bistro she wants to try and she could think of no other person with whom she would like to share the experience. 

Fort gives her his normal nod of greeting as she sashays past his desk and down the hall. She knocks twice and bounces on her toes trying to tame her grin. After he beckons her in, she enters. “Fox,” she greets. 

“Riyo,” he returns, finishing up his last note on his datapad before filing it away. 

Moving to sit in her chair, she pauses. Where had once been an orange, rickety nightmare now sits a deep red chair with _cushions_. “Did you get a new chair?” She asks. 

He nods. “The Chancellor was getting rid of it, but it looked perfectly fine to me,” he explains. “Go ahead, take a seat.”

She does, tucking her right leg under her as she does. “Oh.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Do you like it?”

She nods, rocking back and forth and then tucking her other leg underneath of her as well. “Yes, it’s quite comfortable.”

He smiles, as if he is laughing at a joke to which only he knows the punchline. “So what’s for lunch today?” he asks. 

“About that,” she begins. “I was thinking maybe we could go out today.”

He blinks several times and the crease between his brows that normally makes itself sparse while she is around, returns. “I don’t know about that. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He stares at her as if the answer is the most obvious thing on the planet. “I’m a clone,” he finally says. 

“So?”

“So,” he sighs. “So most people don’t take kindly to us being in public.”

“Well I’m a Senator. You’re just… coming along for security. You do that right?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“Then let’s go, come on.” She stands up and offers her hand to him. 

“This is a bad idea,” he declares, but takes her hand nonetheless. 

“Oh come on, live a little.”

~

They walk along the upper levels of the Senatorial District together, her hand wrapped delicately around his upper arm. The plastoid of his armor is cool under her fingers, but the sun on her skin is warm and she can feel her stomach doing excited flips at being this close to Fox. 

She remembers when she used to be scared of him. 

Now, she couldn’t imagine anywhere safer than by his side. 

Being this close is worth every single dirty look they earn from civilians passing them on the street, too. She probably shouldn’t be holding onto him, but after her heel got stuck in an exhaust grate and she nearly toppled over, he had offered his elbow to her for her ‘safety’. 

“Oh, here it is!” She points to the very nice bistro within the Senate district. The outside has twinkling lights strung around a patio and the doors are all made of transparisteel. 

Fox remains silent as she practically drags him to the entryway and up to the hostess. The inside is quite charming, the same twinkling lights that are outside around the patio are also strung throughout the rafters inside. Everything is done in a minimalistic style that is becoming all the rage in the upper levels of Coruscant. “Good afternoon,” the hostess, a petite human girl, smiles. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

Fox tenses further and she sees him scan the room. He may not be here as her bodyguard, but she doubts his going to let his guard down. 

“Chuchi,” she smiles. 

“Wonderful, just this way.”

Keeping her hand firm on Fox’s arm, she moves to follow the hostess. The petite woman stops when she sees that Fox is following. “Oh I’m sorry, your clone will have to wait outside.”

“He is my bodyguard and he _will_ be dining with me,” Riyo states.

The hostess grimaces. “I’m sorry, but we can’t serve it here.”

It?

_It?!_

“Excuse me?” Riyo hisses and waves her hand. “I’m sorry, I believe I will need to talk to a manager.”

The hostess plasters on a fake smile. “Of course.”

“Riyo,” Fox mumbles low enough for only her to hear. “It’s really fine. We can go somewhere else.”

She looks up to him, appalled. “No. This is unacceptable.” If he is even half as horrified as she is, the mask of his helmet and level of his shoulders betray nothing.

“Someone asked to speak to a manager?” A portly, bald gentleman steps up to Riyo and Fox. 

“Yes. I have been told that my loyal bodyguard cannot dine with me.”

“No, ma’am. We don’t serve his kind here.”

Her brow furrows. “And what _kind_ is that?”

“Clones, ma’am. We don’t need them…” His eyes flitter over to Fox and he leans closer to Riyo so that Fox can’t hear the comment about to tumble from his chapped lips. “We don’t need them contaminating our restaurant with their war-mongering.”

With a gasp, Riyo reels back. “Contaminating? War-mongering?! Do you realize you are in the presence of a decorated war hero? Do you realize that good men die for you every day just so that you may snub them when they come into your _mediocre_ establishment!?”

“Senator,” Fox mutters as a warning. 

“No!” Riyo pulls her arm away from Fox so that she can step up to the manager. “What you are doing is unacceptable. It is discrimination and I will _not_ give my money to someone so prejudiced. Come on, Commander, let’s go.” She snatches his wrist and practically drags him out. Once they are out of the restaurant, Fox turns his hand over, grabbing her wrist, and guides her into an alley. They stand on each side and Riyo's chest heaves as she tries to get a hold of her breathing. 

He pulls his helmet off. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…” he trails off and runs a hand through his hair. 

Craning her head up, Riyo blinks the tears back. She focuses on looking up at the very top of the buildings. They all almost converge onto the same point. “I cannot believe the lack of humility displayed by every being on this Goddess-forsaken planet.”

Fox is silent and eventually she looks down to meet his eyes. 

For the first time since she has met him, he looks sad. His shoulders are sagging and his eyebrows crinkle with concern. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Why are _you_ sorry? It should be me. I… I dragged you in there.”

He shakes his head. “You deserve a better friend, Riyo. I-I’m just a clone. I don’t mean anything. I’m just a number and an identical face.”

“Fox, no. You… You’re my very best friend and I wouldn’t change that for the galaxy. The only thing I would change is the war. You shouldn’t be property and you shouldn’t be seen as some expendable… war-mongerer.” She huffs. “Come on, lunch break isn’t over yet.”

He doesn’t move when she does. “I think we should just go back to the Guard Office. I-I have reports to write, briefings to prepare.”

She reaches down to take the hand that isn’t holding onto his helmet. “We can if you really want to… But I want to try and salvage the rest of our time together.”

He looks down at their joined hands. Gently, he rubs his thumb across her knuckles and a lightning bolt of warmth radiates through her. “Just to be clear, I still have a bad feeling about this,” he says, looking up through his lashes.

“Don’t worry, we will not be going to another swanky place.”

He slips on his helmet. “Good. I don’t think I couldn’t _not_ punch another self-righteous manager.”

She snorts a laugh and holds out her hand, hoping for him to offer his elbow to her. He does and her stomach swooshes. Does this mean he trusts her? Does this mean he likes to be touched by her? What _does_ this mean?

It means they are friends, that’s all. 

They exit the alley arm in arm. 

~

They sit down in the greasy booth of the dive of a diner. The seats are made of a cracked, dark red leather and the table of speckled beige plastoid. After a droid comes and takes their drink order, Fox removes his helmet and sets it tentatively by his side. 

“What is this place?”

“A secret only the good senators know about.”

He arches an eyebrow. 

“It’s a diner. Their specialty is the nerf-burger.”

“I’ll just order whatever you get.”

When the droid comes back they do exactly that. Two nerf-burgers with chips. 

She blows her straw rapper at him, hitting him in the pauldron and he does the same, hitting her in the cheek. She giggles and balls up the wrapper. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he says. 

“Go ahead.”

“What do the arches mean?” He points to her cheek. 

She flushes a darker shade of indigo and it makes his heart race. Every time she blushes, he can feel his face doing the same. “Well, they’re my clan marking. It’s rather silly, but it’s meant to represent the two ‘ch’s in my last name.”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” he states. She blushes once more and his own face feels as if it is on fire. How is talking to her so easy, yet so hard? “So they’re tattoos, then?” He shifts and the plastoid of his armor squeaks against the worn leather of the booth. 

She nods. “Yes, gold leaf tattooed into our skin. It’s actually a rather sweet ceremony. You pick an elder and from your clan to do your tattoo and on your 18th birthday you lay down, everyone burns some herbs meant to bring fortune and other prosperous things and you get tattooed.”

He nods. “You know, some troopers get face tattoos.”

“But you didn’t?”

He shakes his head. “No, no I didn’t.” he pauses to take a sip of his water. “I’m the head of the Coruscant Guard. I have to give briefings to the Chancellor and other higher ups. The regs strictly say that tattoos are, well, a defacement of Republic property. I don’t care if my men get tattoos - it’s the one piece of individuality they’re allowed. Besides, we aren’t allowed to take off our buckets while on duty anyway.”

Riyo’s brow furrows and she sits back. “There is so much of what you just said that is so wrong.”

“Like?”

She holds up one slender, blue finger. “One, defacement of Republic property? You are a living being, you can’t be considered _property_! Two, individuality is forbidden? It’s against the regs? Three, you aren’t allowed to remove your helmets? Ever?”

Fox shifts. “I think I made it sound worse than it is.”

“No you spoke very plainly. You and your men are forbidden from being _human_.”

“Which makes sense considering we are just clones.”

For the first time in his entire time of knowing Senator Chuchi, her anger is directed towards him. She leans halfway across the table and wags a threatening finger at him. “Don’t you dare say that in front of me ever again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his back straightening out of reflex. He hadn’t realized he was leaning in towards her until he became the subject of her ire. 

“I mean it,” she doesn’t move to sit back, if anything her brow crinkles more. “You are my _friend._ You are _human_. That is a _fact_. Period. End of Sentence.” She falls back with a huff and crosses her arms across her chest. 

Just then the droid delivers their food but she makes no move to eat. She simply glares out of the window. Fox, at a loss of what else to do, leans forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”

Sighing, she unfurls herself. Her golden eyes flick towards him and he is raptured by how the light reflects from them. “I’ve been reading about sentiency testing.”

Fox feels as if he has been kicked in the gut. “What?”

“I think you should let me administer an exam for you.”

“Riyo, I can’t do that.”

She looks down at her food and pushes the chips from one side of her plate to another. “I’m not going to force you, that would be unfair. But you can pass the sentiency benchmarks. And when you do, I can present actual data to a group of senators. If they find my presentation compelling… Well, we might be able to introduce legislation for clones’ rights. We could defund the GAR - make it volunteer based instead of mandatory military service.”

“I think you’re forgetting that the Kaminoans grow us in tubes. We don’t exist naturally. We are scientific experiments.” With a sigh, he turns to his own food. He’s not even hungry anymore. 

“Did you know that droids are considered sentient?”

His head snaps up to find her already looking at him. “No, I didn’t,” he answers. 

She nods. “They are considered sentient but aren’t represented in the Republic because they don’t have a planet to call home, therefore they cannot be represented. Our government is based on systems. Now if droids were to go conquer a planet and make it their own, then they would have to be represented. Clones _do_ exist solely on one planet, Kamino. If you are considered sentient, what the Kaminoans are doing would be considered abuse and in some cases genocide.”

Fox chews slowly. “I can’t. I… I’m the only protection my men have, if I get decommissioned because of this…” he trails off. He doesn’t want to think of the consequences of him no longer existing. He likes to joke about dying, about no longer being in the position he is in. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, not really.

She nods. “I understand. Maybe think further on it.”

~

Fox’s day had been shit. He had prison transfers to handle with Stone, then he helped Thire chase down some bounty hunters that had managed to kidnap a senator. When rescued, that senator wouldn’t even look at them, let alone shake his hand. Worst of all, he was forced to cancel his lunch with Riyo. He had been too busy and wasn’t in his office at all during the day. 

So, as he falls into his desk chair, his aching feet singing with relief, he pulls up his messages. 

He opens Riyo’s first. 

_That’s fine. Perhaps dinner?_

He messages back. _Should be okay. As long as you don’t mind eating while I finish paperwork. I just got back in the office._

He opens up the next message, deemed “Priority Alert”. With his batch of brothers, “Priority” is definitely a loose term. 

He starts at the top of the message chain. 

_CC-3636:_ Guys, I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it. Ponds is dead. He, General Windu, and the rest of the 42nd were involved in a venator crash. Ponds, the admiral, and one other trooper survived the crash along with Generals Windu and Skywalker. The generals were deemed MIA. The Wolfpack, General Koon, and Commander Tano assisted in their rescue, but Ponds, the admiral, and other trooper were considered KIA. It wasn’t until the bounty hunter Aura Sing sent General Windu a threatening message did we realize they were still alive. 

_CC-3636:_ In the message, Ponds was shot execution style and spaced. He died with honor. May he finally rest in peace. 

_CC-5052:_ What the fuck, Wolffe quit dicking around. I talked to Ponds two days ago. 

_CC-2224:_ Bly, it's true. I’m sorry. At least it was a quick and painless death. 

_CC-5052:_ Cody, you ASS. How can you say that about our baby brother?

 _CC-3636:_ I agree with Cody. I’ve listened to my men die in space. At least she had the decency to shoot him first. 

_CT-7567:_ I’m sorry guys. I never knew Ponds that well, but General Skywalker said that General Windu about went apeshit when he saw Ponds get shot. 

_CC-5052:_ I would have gone apeshit. 

_CC-3636:_ I’ve seen the footage. It was hard to keep my temper under control. 

_CC-1010:_ Wolffe, what are you talking about?

 _CC-3636:_ I’m sorry, ori’vod, but Ponds is dead. I watched him get shot myself. He’s gone. 

_CC-1010:_ You all are just trying to make my spectacularly shit day even worse.

 _CC-5052:_ We wouldn’t do that to you. Well, we would, but this would be a sick joke. Fuck. Guys, comm me if you need me. I’m going to blow off steam. I can’t deal with this.

 _CC-3636:_ Fox, you doing alright?

 _CC-1010_ : No. I’m not doing fucking alright. 

_CC-1010_ : My littlest brother was just fucking shot in the head. 

_CC-1010:_ Then spaced

 _CC-1010:_ You want to know the shittiest part? Aura Sing committed a felony a couple months back here on Coruscant. Our men missed her. 

_CC-1010:_ If we would have caught her. Ponds’ika would still be alive. 

_CC-2224_ : You can’t think like that. 

_CC-1010:_ Sure I can. I have one fucking job. ONE FUCKING JOB. AND I FUCKED IT UP SO BAD I GOT A BROTHER FUCKING KILLED. MY LITTLE BROTHER. OUR LITTLEST BROTHER. 

_CC-2224:_ Take a deep breath. 

_CC-1010:_ Fuck off, Cody. 

~

Riyo is pleasantly excited to see Fox tonight. They had missed each other for lunch, but dinner was just as nice. In fact, she wouldn’t mind ending every day with seeing Fox. He’s always a calm, steady presence and after a day of playing politics, it is always nice to see someone genuine. 

She enters the guard office and goes to brush past Fort when he reaches across the counter and grabs her arm. “Senator, you shouldn’t go back there right now.”

“What? Why?”

Fort’s brow crinkles. “Fox isn’t doing well, ma’am.”

“What? I need to go to him then,” she goes to hurry away when his grip tightens. 

“Ma’am. It’s not a physical injury.”

“Fort, let me go. If my friend is hurting, then I need to help him.”

Fort’s face smooths. “Actually, you’re probably the only person who could get through to him right now… Just… consider yourself warned, ma’am.”

She nods and rushes back to his office. She goes to knock when she hears a crash. Palming open the door, she sees Fox standing, vambraces, gauntlets and helmet removed. The bookshelf behind him that has always been meticulously organized is overturned and all of the contents spilled on the floor. 

“Fox?” She asks, dropping the food to the floor carelessly.

He turns around so that his back is to her. “Go. Away.” 

“No,” she murmurs. 

“Get. Out.”

“I’m not going to leave you like this. You’re clearly hurting.”

He whips around, swiping the contents from his desk. Flimsi floats up into the air and datapads clatter to the floor. “For fuck’s sake! Will you just fucking leave me alone?!” His voice is deep and booming - so loud that her stomach flutters with fear. His chest heaves and his hands flex at his sides. His body is tense, coiled so tightly he looks like he could snap and for a brief moment she is afraid of standing too close, lest she get caught in his rampage. But then she sees his face. A silent tear tracks down his cheek and her fear washes away. 

“I’m not leaving you,” she whispers, stepping closer to him. 

The door, now that she is no longer standing in its way, whirls shut behind her. 

“Please,” he begs. He is still coiled tightly. 

She steps closer and more tear trickles from his eyes. “I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m a fucking monster,” he rasps, still not looking at her. 

Slowly, like she is approaching a wild animal, she steps closer. “No. No, you’re not.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“What is?” She’s a breath away from him now. As tightly as he is wound, this close, she can see him shaking ever so slightly. 

With rage or sorrow, she doesn’t know yet. 

“He’s dead. He’s dead because of me.”

“Who is?” She whispers. 

He tenses again, like he wants to hit something. He still hasn’t looked down at her. Slowly, carefully, she reaches up and catches his face in her hands. It’s rough, and she can see the shadow of needing a shave. Rubbing her thumbs across his cheeks, she wipes away his tears. “Fox, look at me.”

He drags his eyes up to meet hers. 

“You are _not_ a monster.”

His brow crinkles and he sucks in a deep breath. “I. Didn’t catch her. She killed. She killed Ponds.” Each phrase he utters is stunted as if he can’t breathe. 

“Fox that isn’t your fault.”

“It is!” He collapses to the ground, the clatter of his plastoid plates and the echo of his words rattling through his modest office. 

She follows him down to the ground, her purple skirt pooling around her knees. “Fox,” she nudges without touching him. He is on his hands and knees gasping for air. “Fox?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s all my fault.”

She can bear it no longer. She grabs him under his armpits and pulls him into a hug that he doesn't struggle against. Wordlessly, she places her chin atop of his head and gently runs her fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault,” she whispers. “It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t cry out and he doesn’t wail. His back shakes silently and his hands come up behind her, clutching onto her shawl like it is his last hope for salvation. “If I had caught her. If I had done my _damn_ job.”

She gently rocks them back and forth, squeezing the back of his neck and running her finger through his hair. “You can’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault.”

He falls silent again, his back shaking and his hands squeezing and releasing her shawl as he breathes. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” she reassures to the top of his head. He has curly hair, she notes; deep, dark locks that are a little matted from being trapped in a helmet all day. 

She suppresses an urge to press a kiss to his crown. 

“If I do the benchmark test and you introduce that legislation… we could stop sending men to war if they don’t want to?” His voice is wet and strangled. 

She presses her cheek to his hair and nods. “We can try. It may not work, but we can try.”

“I’ll do it,” he rasps. 

She doesn’t want to argue, not with him so vulnerable, so she simply murmurs, “Okay, okay.” And she holds him; she holds him because he lets her, she holds him because she loves him. Her dearest friend. She smooths his hair and rubs his neck until his breathing evens out. When it does, she gently lowers him to the floor. He is sound asleep. The poor babe, overworked and sleep-deprived. She is half tempted to leave him on the floor, but the way he is laying is a surefire way to wake with a kink in the neck. 

She slips back out to find Fort, who arches an eyebrow at her when she emerges. 

“He alright?”

Riyo shakes her head. “No. But he will be. I was hoping someone could help me move him to his quarters?”

Fort’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “He’s asleep?”

Riyo nods. 

“Lemme call Thire.”

~

When Thire and the medic show up, they let her follow him to his quarters, mostly because when they put him on the gurney, he starts moaning in pain. Riyo jumps up on the gurney and strokes his hair some more, gently running her fingers down his temple. 

Thire types in Fox’s code and they all enter the small quarters. She thought his office was small, his quarters are offensively tiny. Thire and the medic move him to his bed and Riyo is painfully aware that there is no blanket. 

“No blanket?” She whispers. 

Thire shakes his head and motions for them to exit, lest they wake the slumbering commander. Out in the hall he clarifies, “No. The GAR doesn’t issue blankets to us.”

“What?” She hisses. 

“It’s standard operating procedure. We don’t have blankets fighting in a war zone, we shouldn’t have blankets in the barracks.” 

Shaking her head, she decides that is an issue for later. “Thire, would you mind escorting me back to his office? I’d like to clean everything up.”

“Sure. I’ll help.”

They walk back and work in silence. Putting everything back on his desk is fairly simple, but when it comes to the shelf, they both struggle. Out of the dozens of times both of them have been in here at one point or another, neither of them can remember the exact locations of all the datapads and file folders. 

Eventually, they just settle on alphabetization. 

As she gets ready to leave, Thire stops her. “Ma’am. Thank you.”

Riyo nods slowly. “I just wish I could make it better.”

“Believe me, getting him to sleep is about as good as it will get. I don’t remember the last time he slept in his room.”

“Will you keep an eye on him for me?” She asks with a tender smile. 

“That’s something you don’t have to ask, ma’am. He’s my best friend,” Thire smirks. 

“Make sure you remind him of that tomorrow morning,” she says, resting a gentle hand on his elbow. 

“Of course, ma’am.”

That night, in her own bed, she can’t sleep. She wishes she were still with Fox. It hurts her to think he will wake alone, with just his thoughts to keep him company. She tosses and turns, but what eventually lulls her to sleep, is clutching a pillow tightly to her chest and imagining him with her in bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you stopped reading after the group chat, Fox panics and blames himself for Ponds' death. After he calms down a bit, he agrees to get tested for sentiency. Riyo and Thire clean up his office and she goes to bed, imagining Fox with her <3
> 
> Thank you all so much for your love and support! Super sorry I didn't get this posted on Friday, but life has been crazy this week!
> 
> Also, super sorry for using non-canon week names... I kept confusing myself so I changed them lolol.
> 
> This is linked at the end of the work as well, but now with [art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28503507)!


	9. Faith and Valor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Reader warnings:  
> 1\. Beginning of chapter starts with Fox taking the sentiency exams. If you are uncomfortable by testing anxiety, skip to "Your secret is safe with me".  
> 2\. There is some more harassment in this chapter, tread carefully.  
> 3\. The end of the chapter features graphic depictions of sexual assault. If this makes you uncomfortable, quit reading after 'midnight oil'. If you are comfortable reading some fluffy aftermath skip to "Like you even had to ask, sir". 
> 
> I think that covers it for chapter warnings. If anything else is tough to read, let me know and I'll add it to the list.

Fox looks in his standard issue mirror as he secures the collar of his dress uniform and slicks back his stubborn curls. Tucking his hat under his arm, he gives himself one last look before he exits his room with a crisp about-face. He walks through the halls of the barracks and spares a quick glance at his chrono. He will be exactly fifteen minutes early to his appointment which is just on time. 

As they say, early is on time, on time is late, and late is dead. 

So, he’s perfectly on schedule. 

“What’s with the soft-shell, Commander?” Thorn asks as he walks by, falling in step with him. 

“I have a meeting.”

“With?”

“Thorn, don’t you have something to be doing? Like sleeping, filling out reports or escorting senators?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Thorn falls off to a group of troopers loitering. “Watch out for the Commander, he’s in a sour mood today.”

A chorus of grumbles echo through the hall. Fox rolls his eyes, but keeps up with his schedule. Outside, in the stagnant Coruscant air, he climbs in a speeder and heads to the Senate Hall. 

It isn’t a secret, not really, but he doesn’t want his men to get their hopes up. The absolute worst case scenario would be that he fails all of the exams, which will take almost all morning. The absolute best case scenario is that everything goes right and the GAR is knocked to volunteer only. All of the young cadets will be raised as real children and not as warriors. They will have the opportunity to experience a childhood. And all of the adult clones will have a choice. 

In regards to his exam, he is hoping for at least passing, but he doesn’t exactly share Riyo’s optimism. She seems to believe that not only is he going to pass, but he is going to pass with full sentiency scores and that she will magically find a committee crazy enough to push this through. 

He has a few senators in mind who might be crazy enough to do it, but again. 

Test first. 

Committee second. 

Blind faith for the rest. 

He steps into the Senate Hall and everyone who notices him, offers only a disinterested glance before dismissing him entirely. 

That is the one nice thing about dress greys. While he hates feeling unprotected and not having several nooks and crannies to stash weapons, he does like that people don’t seem so intimidated by him. Perhaps it is because they can see he is human or perhaps it is because he isn’t carrying multiple weapons. 

Either way, it is a nice change of pace. 

He steps up to Riyo Chuchi’s door and politely knocks twice. It whirls open immediately, Ilona standing on the other side. “Welcome, Commander. You’re a few minutes early and Riyo is still setting things up.”

He nods and tries not to take out his nervous energy on his hat. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you a caf?”

“No, ma’am.” She worries her lip between her teeth. It’s been a while since their altercation in his office and since he’s quite over it, he adds, “Don’t want to be too jittery for the tests.”

She nods and gives him a soft smile, “Commander, I’d like to apologize for my actions in your office.”

He nods. “It wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. No harm done.”

Her smile blooms into something that actually resembles happiness as Riyo enters the formal sitting room. “Fox, I’m ready whenever you are.”

He gives Ilona a parting bow, “Miss Minarek.”

She curtseys. “Good luck, Commander.”

Hopefully he won’t need it, but he gives her a reassuring smile nonetheless and follows Riyo. In her office, her desk - which is normally in the center of the room - is now pushed to the side and a long table has been set up in the middle. There are two chairs, one on each side and a holorecorder on the side furthest from the door. Riyo motions for him to sit and she takes her place on the side with the holorecorder. She looks almost as nervous as he feels. 

He swallows and the stiff collar of his dress uniform digs into his neck. 

“How are you?” She asks. 

He wets his lips. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be. You’re going to do great.”

Nodding, he flexes his hands against the table. 

“I have to record this.”

He nods again. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he huffs. 

She smiles. “Okay, 3...2... 1.” She presses ‘record’ on the device. “Good morning, Commander. Today, I will be proctoring a sentiency evaluation for you. Will you require a translator?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent. I am going to read you the rules and procedures. In front of you is a transcription. When I am finished please sign and date the bottom. Any questions so far?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Okay. Today you will be taking the Republic Sentiency Evaluation established by the Republic Convention of Civilized Systems. There are three results you can receive from this evaluation: non-sentient, sub-sentient, or sentient. There are four parts to this evaluation. The first three each contain 100 questions and must be completed in two standard hours. All questions left incomplete will be counted against you. The final part is an oral exam where you will be asked fifteen questions of varying difficulty. You will be expected to answer fully and to the best of your ability using standard basic. Your accent will not be counted against you so long as you use proper terminology. Are there any questions?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Please sign and date the transcription.”

He picks up the pen and hesitates. Should he sign his name or number? He decides on his name. If he is going to be tested for his humanity, he isn’t going to sign a damn number. 

He slides the flimsi back to her and she nods crisply, her headpiece chiming delicately. 

“The first portion of this exam will be standard mathematics. As you progress, the test will increase in difficulty. If you have any questions, you may ask them. However, as the proctor I have every right to deny answering that question if I deem it too expository.”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She slides the test and a pencil to him. It is face down. His heart jumps into his throat and he remembers training on Kamino. They trained on computers then and other fancy tech that he hasn’t seen since stepping foot off of that watery hell hole. One thing he does remember, though, is the electric shock he received whenever he got an answer wrong. He suppresses a shiver. Math was his best subject, he’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. 

“You may begin.”

He flips over the packet and gets to work. 

~

Riyo tries to remain as quiet as she can and not stare at him, but it is hard to not. He is flying through the exam, hardly touching the calculator. He has touched it twice and they are an hour into the exam. As he mentally completes various math problems, each more difficult than the last, the crease between his brows deepens. At one point, his tongue gets captured between his lips as he furiously erases his work and starts anew. 

Then he is done. He reaches the end of the packet and goes back through to quickly check his work. He looks up at her, eyebrows raised. “I’m done,” he states simply. 

She looks at her chrono. He still has forty-five standard minutes left. “Are you sure?” She asks. “You still have forty-five minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, in that case. We are going to move to the science exam. It consists of biology, chemistry, physics, and astrophysics. Do you have any questions?”

“May I sharpen my pencil?” He asks, motioning to the very dull writing stick. 

“Oh! Of course,” she slides a sharpener across the table to him. He grabs it and, with a few quick, precise turns, sharpens his pencil. 

He slides it back to her. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She slides the second exam to him, face down. 

He takes a steady inhale. 

“You may begin.”

He flips it over and starts working. 

~

What in the _hell_ is a Bollen Pattern?

Dammit, the only biology he learned was the best way to kill someone and the birds and the bees. He’s not a damn field medic for crying out loud. 

He closes his eyes and flips through all of the things he has read. 

Bollen Patterns have been used in helping the wounded operate cybernetic replacements. Like Wolffe and his damn cybernetic eye. 

Fox sucks in a deep breath and limps his way through the rest of the biology section. 

When he sees the first chemistry question he could cry with joy. Calculating bomb chemicals was one of his favorite parts of being a cadet. The questions are well within reach and he flies through the responses, hardly needing to check his work. The same goes for the physics and astrophysics section. He is no fighter pilot, but every cadet had to learn how to manually calculate hyperspeed jumps. 

When he finishes question one hundred he looks to Riyo. She is respectfully looking at her hands and trying not to be intrusive. It makes his heart stutter. 

“I’m finished,” he states. 

Her head snaps up. “You still have thirty minutes. Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smirks and accepts his test and pencil from him. 

“May I stand and stretch?” he asks. 

“Of course, feel free to walk a lap around the room if you need.” 

“Thank you,” he stands and twists at the hips twice, getting his lower back to pop. He lets out a sigh of relief and walks over to the window and back. 

“Okay, I’m ready for the Basic test,” he states, sitting down. “If that’s what’s next?”

“Yes,” she begins. “There is a reading and a writing section. Are you ready?”

No, he has been dreading this moment. He knows enough literature to write a well-read briefing, but he is no university-educated senator. “Yes, ma’am.” He answers.

She slides the test to him face down. 

“You may begin.”

~

He barely finishes in time and his wrist is cramping so bad he feels like he has been signing requisitions all morning. He huffs a breath and slides the test to her as the alarm goes off. 

She smiles softly. “Wonderful, thank you.”

He nods. 

“Would you like to take a lap around the room?”

“Actually, ma’am. I wouldn’t mind a glass of water, if you have one available.”

“Of course,” she reaches down and hands him a bottle. 

It’s room temperature, but it’s wet and that’s all he really needs right now. His heart is racing, he was almost certain he wasn’t going to finish that last one on time. Now is just the oral one, and he feels fairly confident that he will pass. It’s just lunch with Riyo, they talk all the time. 

“Okay, we will now begin the oral interview. Are you ready?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Will you begin by stating your name, rank and battalion.”

“Yes. My designation is CC-1010. My name is Fox. I am a Marshal Commander and I serve the Coruscant Guard.”

“Very good. Tell me a little about yourself.”

Oh. 

Well.

She already knows the fun stuff. 

“I guess I should start by saying I’m the oldest of my batchmates. Commanders, Cody, Bly, Wolffe, and-and Ponds, though he has recently passed on. I serve mostly within the Senate Hall, but occasionally I fill in for other, lower ranking troopers.”

“You mention that you are the oldest, how old are you, Commander?”

“Uh, twenty-four years biologically, twelve standard, ma’am.”

“What is something you like to do?”

Oh. Shit. 

Why is she asking hard questions?

“I, uh, don’t get much free time to do things.”

“That’s okay, what’s something you like about your job or something that seems less daunting?”

“Well, I really like maintenancing my service weapons. It’s soothing. I also like spending time with my batchmates when they’re on shore leave. They are all out fighting the war and I, uh, I’m stationed here protecting home base.”

She smiles softly and looks at her datapad for the next question. “Describe a time when you were happy.”

“The day my brothers and I graduated from Command Class. It was the last time we were all together. Man,” Fox chuckles under his breath. “Command Class was hard, and we had just survived it all, together. We felt like kings of the galaxy.”

“And can you describe a time when you were sad?”

Fox grimaces, his lips flattening to a hard line. “Last week. My brother, Ponds, died. I felt as if it were my fault. If it’s okay I would prefer not to go into details.”

“That’s perfectly alright,” she nods. “What would you like to do when the war is over?”

“I’ve never given it much thought, ma’am. As clones, we are hardly guaranteed tomorrow, let alone a lifetime after a war that we were created to fight in. Our future is in the hands of the Republic.”

A small shiver runs down her spine and she asks the next question. “Tell me a joke.”

“The war ending.”

Riyo smirks. “Tell me about your best friend.”

He blushes and shifts. He thinks for a few seconds before looking up into her eyes. “She’s pretty amazing. She’s brave, selfless, kind. Oh, and she is pretty great at baking. She has treated me as human when no one else has bothered to do so.”

Riyo blushes deep indigo and clears her throat. “What is something you love?”

“My brothers.”

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“Sure,” he shifts. He isn’t exactly verbose, but this is an exam on how well he speaks so he tries to muster up some words. “My brothers are the only thing I can call my own. We grew up together and we know each other better than anyone else.”

“And something you hate?”

“The way senators of the Republic abuse them. I understand that we are considered property, but that gives them no right to spit on them or call them names.”

“Okay, I am going to describe a scene to you and I want you to tell me how you would react. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“A child is about to fall into a well. What do you do?”

“I would run after them and scoop them up before they fall. Shouting would be a poor decision as it could startle them over the edge.”

“And why would you do that?”

“I,” he pauses. “Because it’s the right thing to do.” He would say that it is his duty, but he’s trying to seem human. Citing the reg manual probably wouldn’t serve him well here.

“A bullet train is barreling down a track. You control the power to pull the lever thus running over one person, or another lever, thus running over five. What do you do and why?”

Fox can’t even comprehend the question. Kill one civvie over five? “If it’s possible, in this hypothetical situation, I would blow up the train. My life is meaningless to that of a civilian.”

She frowns. “You do not possess the ability to blow up the train.”

He wets his lip. “Then I would choose the one. No one person is worth five.”

She nods and he feels like he got the question wrong. “Okay we are almost done.”

He inhales. 

She sets two identical ration bars in front of him. “Pick one.”

“Pick one?” He asks. 

“Yes.”

He eyes them. “They’re the same.”

“Yes.”

He contemplates them further, but ultimately picks the right one. 

“Why did you choose this one?”

He crinkles his eyebrows incredulously. “You told me to.”

“No, I said to pick one. Why did you pick the one on your right?”

“Well… I had to pick one and they’re the same. So I just grabbed one. It doesn’t matter which.”

She smiles. “Last question.”

He nods. 

“How do you take your caf?”

“Black, ma’am. Like my soul.”

She smiles. “That will be all. Thank you so much Commander, for your time and patience.”

“The pleasure was mine.” 

She hits the stop button on the recorder. 

“How did I do?” He asks, unclipping the high collar of his uniform that was digging into his Adam’s Apple the entire time. 

“Well, I will need to grade the paper exams, but the oral interview was flawless.”

He lets out the breath he had been holding and pauses to watch her as she cleans up the exams and recorder. “You know… they’re just going to say that we know the answers because we are all the same.”

She smirks. “I know. That’s the purpose of the last question.”

“How I take my caf?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“If everyone was the same, they would all drink their caf the same, right?”

He nods.

“And do you drink your caf the same as your brothers?”

He shakes his head. “No. Thorn drinks more cream than he does caf.”

“Exactly.” She tucks everything away. “Shall we go to lunch?”  
His stomach rumbles. “I was hoping you would say that. I was too nervous to eat this morning.”

“The great Commander Fox nervous?” 

“Don’t tell anyone.” He smirks, pushing out of his chair and meeting her at the door.

She laughs. “Your secret is safe with me.”

~

They exit her office together and Riyo holds up her hand, asking for Fox’s arm, which he all too willingly provides. Another perk of the soft shell is that he can feel her warmth through the wool. It’s almost as if she is touching his skin and that thought sends a bolt of electricity through him. 

They walk in silence, both of them dutifully ignoring the stares and whispers of the Senators around them. That is, until they finally exit the Senate Hall and are met by none other than Senator Bibbeck and his cronies. 

“Well, if it isn’t Senator Chuchi and her little toy soldier,” Bibbeck sneers. His icy blue eyes dance with the delight of having caught someone to harass today.

Both of them stiffen and Fox instinctually steps between her and the Senator. 

“Oh? The Clone a big tough guy?” Bibbeck steps up to him and Fox takes a deep breath to keep his face a duracrete wall. “You think you’re actually going to lay a genetically modified finger on me? I’ll have you decommissioned before you even get back to your barracks, _clone_.”

Fox stiffens, fixing a harsh glare on the senator before Riyo is stepping up beside him. “Senator Bibbeck, you are out of line. You are addressing _Marshal_ Commander Fox. He is the highest ranked commander in the GAR and a personal guard for Chancellor Palpatine. I suggest you go back from whence you came and learn some manners.”

Glaring, Bibbeck steps up to her. “I think you should watch your mouth, you dirty, clone-fucking _whore_.”

“That’s enough,” Fox intervenes. “Go about your business, Senators. Or I will have you arrested for harassment.”

Bibbeck scoffs, but ultimately stalks away, followed by Deechi and Ask.

Riyo exhales sharply and looks up at Fox. “He is _such_ a sleemo.”

Fox nods. “I was going to say asshole, but I guess that works too.”

Riyo laughs, seemingly unphased by the whole exchange and takes up his arm again. “Okay, so lunch.”

~

Fox stands in front of Admiral Tarkin, the prosecutor for the Republic, and finishes his presentation of evidence pointing that Senator Bibbeck of Colunda has been trafficking drugs into Coruscant and hiding his revenue well within the banking clan. 

“This is all?” Tarkin scoffs. “This is hardly indicative of his guilt.”

“Sir, if you will please draw your attention to section 16A, you will see that he has been identified as the ringleader by three traffickers within the city.”

“And what is the weight of their word? Hm? They are petty criminals, they would identify anyone to get off the hook.”

“Sir, it was an impartial line up. We just showed them pictures with no context.”

“Yet, Senator Bibbeck is a well-known Senator from a large system, and his track record has not been… golden. It was biased and this evidence is not _proof_ of anything.”

“Sir, I--”

“That’s quite enough, _clone_. I wish to not see any further reaches to overthrow our great Republic.”

“Sir, I would never. This man is doing _illegal_ acts. In the Senatorial handbook, he stands to be dismissed.”

“Exactly,” Tarkin rises and gets in Fox’s face. “I know you don’t like how Bibbeck treats your men. Unfortunately, framing him for a crime will not pass on my watch, _clone_.”

“It’s _Commander_ , sir,” Fox grinds out. 

“And what does that mean to me? I outrank you in every way. Get out of my office.” He turns his back to Fox. 

Fox lingers for a moment, trying to decide if this is the hill that he wants to die on today before he snatches his holodisc from the player and storms out. 

He just needs to keep playing by the rules until Riyo gives him the news of the committee meeting. He glances at his chrono, a committee meeting that is currently in progress. 

~

“Thank you all for meeting me today,” Riyo stands at the front of the committee hall. Around the small table are Senators Amidala, Organa, Mothma, and Farr. “According to the Convention of Civilized Systems, any being can be tested for sentiency. There are three levels, all of which we know very well. However, the Grand Army of the Republic has never been tested and simply been deemed non-sentient. No better than cattle sent to slaughter.

“I have tested and interviewed Marshal Commander Fox, designation CC-1010, and the results are disturbing.” She flips to her slide showing his results compared to sentient averages. His far surpass everyone on every level. “He was able to complete each test in record time, and conducted his interview perfectly, fulfilling each requirement to be considered fully sentient.”

Senator Mothma gasps. 

“Here is the video of his interview where he was able to express a form of humor most commonly referred to as sarcasm and is an acceptable form under the benchmark ruling.”

_“Tell me a joke.”_

_“The war ending_ . _”_

Senator Organa smiles softly and Senator Farr gives a small chuckle. 

“Due to my findings, I would like to further asses the GAR and introduce legislation to declare their sentiency in hopes of freeing them from slavery as they are treated no better than slaves of the Republic.”

“This is all fine and dandy, Senator Chuchi,” Farr begins. “But they are created. Sentient beings are _born_.”

“That is not entirely true,” Riyo begins. “Droids are considered sentient, yet have no rights as they do not have a home planet to represent them. The clones do. They have a home of Kamino.”

“We already have a Kaminoan senator,” Senator Mothma says. “Surely we can’t have another group represented from the same planet.”

“Perhaps not, but declaring them as sentient proves that they can represent themselves and must be involved in the next election process for a Kaminoan Senator.”

Everyone falls silent and they share looks. 

“We cannot deny this evidence,” Senator Amidala says, looking to her fellow committee members. “We cannot turn a blind eye to these sentient men being treated as slaves.”

“Planets would leave the Republic,” Organa counters. 

“That is a risk we have to take. We _must_ do our best to end this. These sentient men are _dying_ and have no choice in the matter. If we do nothing, who will?”

Everyone falls silent once more. Riyo’s throat goes dry. This is the impasse, isn’t it? Support slavery or possibly watch the Republic they hold dear crumble before their eyes.

“Senator Chuchi, I will help you,” Senator Organa states. 

“And I,” Farr declares. 

“And I,” Mothma agrees. 

“Senator Chuchi, you may also count on my support,” Amidala smiles. 

Riyo’s knees feel as if they could buckle, “Thank you. Thank you all so much.”

With that, the committee disperses, making vague plans to have everyone’s assistants get in contact with each other to schedule official committee meeting times. There are things to plan, first and foremost how they should go about interviewing the clones and testing them on the benchmarks. The Coruscant Guard is the easiest option, but the best option would be to pull from other battalions to show the true differences between them all. 

Despite the mountain of planning, a spark of hope ignites in Riyo. She is doing it. 

She is going to change the galaxy.

~

Fox and Thire stalk down the hallways of the Guard office. “What do you mean we don’t have enough to charge that asshole?” Thire asks incredulously. 

“I mean exactly that, Tarkin said no go. He said that we are trying to pin him for a crime so that he will quit harassing our men.”

“Fucking banthashit.”

Fox doesn’t disagree. It is. It’s politics in court, the one place where politics shouldn’t be. The harassment, despite the Chancellor’s warning, hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, it has gotten worse because now even civvies are getting involved. Two of his men the other day were doing routine patrols and were ambushed. 

They were both killed in the line of duty, blaster bolts straight to the bucket. 

The worst part is, the guard managed to catch the murderers. They were charged with destruction of Republic property and sentenced to six months of community service. 

Fuck it all.

Morale is at an all time low. His brothers are being openly attacked in the streets. Crime and drug trafficking is at an all time high and Fox’s hands are tied due to politics. 

Fuck it _all._

“Sirs,” Puck comes down another intersecting hallway and falls instep with them. “We just received a shipment. It’s the phase two armor.”

Fox and Thire both stop walking and share a look. Morale is at an all time low, that much is certain, but nothing would make the men happier - apart from a salary - than a painting party. They _technically_ aren’t allowed to customize their armor, but at this point, Fox would rather ask the Chancellor for forgiveness than permission. 

“Puck, divide everyone into four groups by shifts worked. We are going to have painting parties,” Fox declares.

Puck nearly starts vibrating with excitement. “Sir, yessir!”

Thire sighs. “Well, hopefully that will help boost morale.”

Fox nods. “We need something.”

~

It’s not Thursday, but she can hardly contain her excitement. She charges through the Senate District and to the Coruscant Guard office. Normally, she would call a speeder, it probably would have been faster as well, but she was so excited she walked, rather briskly, all the way there. 

She busts through the door and Fort arches a quizzical brow. 

“Good afternoon, Fort, is Fox in?”

Nodding, he takes a sip from his mug. 

She practically runs to his office and knocks thrice. 

“Come in.”

She does and Fox stands when he sees her. She must look rather out of breath because he rounds the desk and looks her over. 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“The committee said yes.”

“What?” He asks, blinking. 

“They said yes! Your results were flawless. You tested better than any sentient. We are forming an official committee. We are going to test more members of the GAR and we are going to draft a legislation.”

“What?” He breathes. 

“We are going to draft the legislation! It’s actually happening!” She exclaims. 

Then, she is being scooped up into his arms and spun twice. “That’s amazing!” He sets her down and steps back, looking terrified of his sudden display of affection. “That’s great. I, uh, I don’t know how to thank you.”

She takes up his hands in her own. “No thanks is owed, Fox.”

His eyes are warm and filled with an emotion she has never seen from him before. 

It… almost looks like adoration.

He squeezes her hands twice and she smiles. 

“Have you told any of the men yet?” She questions, trying to keep her eyes from his lips.

“No. I didn’t want to get their hopes up yet. Why don’t you tell them?”

“What?” She blinks. 

He grabs the back of his neck and finds something interesting on his boot. “We are having an armor painting party tomorrow night… Maybe you could come and tell them about your plan.”

She grins. “An armor painting party?”

“Yeah, we just got a new shipment of phase two armor. Morale has been pretty low; the men will probably love to see you.”

She grins. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

A smile blooms on his face and her stomach flips. “Okay, meet me here and I’ll escort you to the barracks.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “Oh, and for the committee, we will need your help deciding on men to interview and of course we will need a trooper stationed at our committee meetings. I have a feeling that once the tooka is out of the bag, there will be an increase in violence directed towards the other senators and myself.”

He nods. “Of course, we can organize all of that.”

“Fox?” The look of adoration has washed away and she can now see all of his mental gears flying at a parsec a second. 

He arches an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“It’s happening. We are actually doing this.”

A true grin splits across his face and Riyo is certain she has never seen anything more gorgeous. 

“Yeah, yeah we are.”

~

Riyo stands on the landing pad with Ilona. Her transport will be arriving shortly, whisking her off to Pantora to meet the new chairman. “Do you have everything?” Riyo questions. 

“I think so,” Ilona adjusts her grip on her truly _massive_ suitcase. Ilona, may the Goddess bless her, _always_ over packs. The three other bags stacked around her feet are only a testament to that. 

“Toothbrush?”

“Yep.”

“Hairpiece?” 

“How could I forget it?”

“Datapads?” 

“Ri’chka, I promise I have everything I need. Besides, if I don’t, I’m going _home_ not to some backwater skughole. There is a civilization on our moon, if you happen to have forgotten.”

Riyo huffs. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Ilona pats her elbow. “It’s appreciated, but I’m more worried about _you_. Who is going to be watching your back when I’m gone?”

Riyo smiles, thinking of all the men in the Coruscant Guard. “I think I’ll be plenty safe.”

Ilona huffs, picking up on what Riyo is saying just as the transport lands. “Promise me you won’t get into trouble while I’m gone?” Ilona sets her bag down and turns to her friend. 

“I can’t make promises that I have no intention of keeping,” Riyo winks playfully and Ilona rolls her eyes. 

She pulls her friend into a hug and whispers, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” Riyo vows as they part ways. She remains on the landing pad until Ilona’s ship is nothing but a speck in the artificial Coruscant sky.

~

“I heard she actually gets the Commander to eat,” one trooper whispers to a group of five more brothers. They _should_ be counting inventory, but Fox is more interested to see what gossip he can catch by standing just behind a crate. 

“No! No, I heard one better! I heard that she got the Commander to _sleep_ in his own _bed_.”

“Ah, fuck off Nix, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck, if the senator escorted me to bed, I’d certainly do something other than sleep.”

“Troopers,” Fox steps out from behind the crate and they all snap to attention. “Quit the gossiping and get back to counting ordinance.”

“Sir, yessir!” Wise salutes. “But may I ask how much you heard?”

“Just enough to say that if you ever talk about the things you would do to Senator Chuchi again, you will wish you never had the misfortune of being decanted.”

“Sir, yessir!”

The scatter like rats and Fox is grateful, in that moment, for his bucket. He doubts they would have taken his threat as seriously if they had seen how red his face was. 

~

Riyo has no idea what to wear to an armor painting party, so she settles on a simple navy pair of slacks and deep red blouse. She feels that it would be amiss to wear any other color to a party where they are quite literally painting their armor red. 

She arrives at the Coruscant Guard Office fifteen minutes before the time she agreed to meet Fox there, but walks back to his office, nonetheless. It feels natural, walking back into his office. If it weren’t so sterile and harsh, she could almost imagine it feeling home-like. 

She knocks on the door and he beckons her in. He is sitting at his desk, fervently writing something out and then sets the datapad aside. “All ready?” He asks. 

“Yes! Though, I’ve never attended a painting party. I’m not certain what to expect.” She wrings her hands helplessly and watches him as he puts a few more things away and stands. 

“I wish I could tell you to expect riveting conversations and perhaps enlightenment,” he slides his helmet on. “But you’ll most likely be exposed to dick jokes and the true definition of ‘boys will be boys’.”

She snorts. “Sounds like my childhood growing up with an older brother.”

He looks down. “Yeah, brothers have a way of being annoying.”

Laughing, she follows him out of the office and to the barracks and tries not to feel nervous. Nevertheless, her heart races and her hands begin to sweat.

“Just to let you know,” he begins before he opens the door. “You don’t have to stay the whole time. The boys can be pretty rowdy.”

“I’m sure I will be just fine,” she smiles and wrings her hands once more. 

He presses the door open and she’s never seen so many relaxed clones. There are at least forty men crammed into the barracks, draped over bunks wearing various amounts of armor. Some are in just their black body suits, others are wearing only the bottom halves of their armor or their full kit. Upon seeing them, they snap to attention. 

“Commander!”

“Senator!”

“At ease, boys,” Fox says as they enter. “Senator Chuchi is here for the painting party.”

Various questions and cheers echo through the hall. “Senator! Senator!” One trooper from a group on the left side of the room shouts. “You should look at the art for the gunship we drew!”

Fox turns deep red and glares at the offender. “She will do no such thing.”

Riyo decides not to press the issue, but stays close to Fox. She’s not scared of the troopers, no. They are harmless. But for the first time, she feels awkward around them. She is on their home turf, she must play by their rules… and she’s not entirely certain as to what the rules are. 

“Here, have a seat, Senator.” One trooper eases himself from his bunk and offers it to her. 

She does and Fox sits on the floor in front of her knees. “Before we get started,” he says. “I think we need to lay down a few ground rules for the evening. One, no offensive anything on the outside of the armor, if you want to put curse words on the inside, go for it. Secondly, no insulting a brother’s work, we are all here to have a good time. Thirdly, only the use of red is permitted. Finally, let’s keep the conversation clean, alright? We have a lady in our midst.”

Riyo scoffs and Fox cranes his neck just to give her a devilish smirk. 

A trooper with swirls shaved on the side of his head raises his hand. 

“Yes, Yeah-yeah?” Fox asks. 

“Sir, uh, why is there a Senator at our painting party? No offense to you, Senator.”

She smiles, “None taken.”

“She has an announcement and we figured we could share it with you all,” Fox states plainly, as if he is reading the headlines for the morning news. 

The men, quite literally, scoot closer and hang from the edges of their seats. She is reminded, then, of how young they are. In fact, some of them look no older than seventeen or eighteen. 

“The floor is yours, Senator,” Fox says. 

She doesn’t stand. She likes feeling like one of them, sitting around on beds and on the floor. “It’s tentative yet, but a committee has been formed for clones’ rights. We are going to move forward with a legislation to free you.”

Whoops and hollers sound off and suddenly she is being dogpiled by a bunch of men. “Hey! Hey! Don’t suffocate her!” She hears someone, she thinks Fox, yell and they begin to break it up. 

“Anyway,” she beams. “I wanted to be the one to tell you. I can head out--”

Everyone shouts ‘no’ and she has never felt more loved in her entire life. 

“Alright then,” Fox smiles from his place on the floor. “Grab your paint brushes.”

~

Fox decides he wants to paint most of his armor red. Unfortunately, he will still need to keep it pretty plain. He still serves the Chancellor, after all. He is painting his thigh plates while Riyo paints his gauntlets. She has an impressively steady hand; though, she still manages to get a little paint on her fingers, turning them purple. 

“Senator!” Ash calls just as Riyo finishes his gauntlet and eyes her handiwork. “Would you mind helping me with something?”

She looks to Fox and he nods. He isn’t going to ruin her fun. She’s practically one of them anyway. Not just any civvie gets invited to a painting party, but then again most civvies wouldn’t _want_ to come to a painting party.

He continues painting, keeping mostly to himself. He doesn’t have many friends, especially not among the lower ranks. He paints the rest of his bottom armor and moves to the top. He paints his vambraces solid red, careful to avoid the buttons, but when he gets to his bicep guard, he hesitates. 

Some men are painting symbols of brothers they have lost. Jek is painting a star on his armor in honor of Cosmos who died in the Zillo Beast incident. Stride and Puck are best friends, both of them painting their vambraces to match their own designs, and then switching so that they each have a mismatched vambrace. 

He wants to represent his best friend in some way. His only friend, really. He watches her from across the room as she giggles at something that Wise has said. Hopefully he isn’t showing her any of the ‘designs’. 

Riyo deserves more than what he could ever hope to give her. She listens to him and she cares and she never dismisses him as just a clone. Hell, she believes in him so ardently that she is willing to set the galaxy ablaze to earn freedom for him and his brothers. He wants to do _something_ to remind himself why he needs to stay alive, to keep fighting for what’s right, just like she would. It would be rather forward and completely unacceptable to write her name on his armor.

Or would it?

Smirking to himself, he leaves two white lines around the bands of his bicep plates. They aren’t arches, because that would be too obvious, but he knows what they mean and they stand for her family symbol. He may not be a part of her family, but she certainly is a part of his and he will wear her markings with pride. 

He looks up from his work to watch her across the room once more. She is leaning down, sketching something on Ash’s helmet, it looks vaguely like a twi’lek child. She must sense him staring, though, because she looks up and catches his eye. Her face lights up with a smile and he looks away.

She is breathtaking. His heart races and he finds himself staring at his plates, trying to calm his shaking hands before taking up his brush again. 

~

Riyo eventually returns to Fox and watches him paint his helmet. He is very concentrated on keeping the white lines straight and his tongue slips between his lips. It makes him look young and, daresay, carefree. He’s just a man painting his armor. He’s not responsible for the millions and millions of lives that reside on Coruscant. 

For once, he’s just Fox. 

And she loves that he is. 

“You decided on a lot of red,” she states, trying to rid herself of her thoughts. 

He’s quiet for a moment as he finishes his line. “Yeah, tired of white.”

“What’s your favorite color?” She asks, leaning closer to him and resting her head on the bed they are sitting against. 

“I dunno.”

“No?”

“Haven’t given it much thought, really.”

“Well based on your decision of paint, I’d have to say you’re quite partial to the color red.”

He shakes his head. “Chancellor picked it.”

“What? Red.”

He nods. 

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

He only hums in response before he returns to painting, putting the finishing touches on the lines at the front of his helmet. 

“I think my favorite color is gold, it means a lot to my people.”

He nods, setting everything aside and putting his paintbrush in the bowl of water. Leaning back against the bed - their heads so close she can feel his warmth - he murmurs. “I suppose mine would be blue.” 

“Why?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. 

“All the beautiful things in the galaxy are blue,” he answers and his eyes bore into hers. “The ocean on Kamino, the sky, hyperspace…” he trails off, his eyes flickering over her facial features. 

She can feel the warmth of a blush rising to her cheeks, but she wills herself not to look away. He is the embodiment of the color gold. He is warm, bright, and _rich_ in so many ways. He is so intelligent, so giving, so soft. Her eyes flick to his lips. She imagines that his hands are rough, but his lips--

Against her own will, a yawn rips through her. She covers her mouth, “‘m sorry.”

A smirk turns the edge of his lips up. “I guess we should probably get you home, Senator.”

Neither of them make any effort to move. “I suppose so.”

He moves first, plastoid clacking together as he clambers to his feet. He makes a comment about putting everything properly away and when it is, he offers a hand to her. Taking up his gloved hand, she is pulled effortlessly to her feet. 

As they exit the barracks several troopers stop to wish her a good evening and to thank her for coming. 

She stops briefly to talk to a trooper who is on crutches. His name is Boomer. He explains that he earned his name due to his penchant for large explosions. However, in one ill-timed explosion, he lost one of his legs from mid thigh, down. “Yeah,” he smiles, his head is shaved but on the side of his head he has a tattoo that she can’t read. “Commander here saved my hide, though. They were gonna send me to Kamino to be scrapped, but he said I’d be good at doing intel even though I’m a foot-soldier CT. He really saved my shebs.”

Fox scoffs, but doesn’t deny anything. 

“Well be certain to be more careful, Boomer,” Riyo gives him a tender smile and shakes his hand. 

“Will do, m’lady,” he gives her a cheeky grin and bows. 

Fox leads her out into the parking bay where all the Corrie Guard speeders rest. He finds one to his liking and opens the passenger’s door for her. 

Stepping into the speeder she smiles. “They love you very much.”

Fox huffs as he settles in and starts the speeder. “I don’t know about ‘love’ but they tolerate me alright,” he hedges as he slips on his helmet.

They turn into the endless stream of Coruscanti traffic. “It’s so clear on their faces. You're like a father to them.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute and she’s worried that maybe she offended him. They don’t have parents, perhaps he thinks fathers to be someone inherently evil. 

“I love _them_ like a father probably loves his children. I know I try to protect them like one.”

She can tell he is thinking about the legislation and the ill effects it could have on everyone. “Everything will be alright,” she says just loud enough to be heard over the sound of speeders whirling by. 

“I hope so,” he mutters and turns into her lot. She desperately wishes she could see his face. She supposes that, in the past few times she has spent time with him, she has gotten used to seeing _him_. Now he is neatly locked away behind the mask of his helmet and she hates it so much she wishes to rip it from his head and toss it over the side of the speeder. 

He parks, but doesn’t move to get out of the speeder. “I can walk you in,” he says as a hopeful offering. 

“I would like that.”

He gets out and opens the door for her, even though she has her own two hands and is very capable of doing so herself. Stepping out, she pulls her jacket more tightly around her. Nightime on Coruscant is cold, not nearly as cold as Pantora, but just chilly enough for her to be grateful for layering. The air is frigid and the environment artificial and uninviting. Despite the small shiver that runs down her spine they walk slowly into the building. 

“Thank you, for inviting me,” she says, looking up at him. 

How she hates that stupid bucket. 

His shoulders are relaxed, but he keeps his head facing forward. “I hope it wasn’t too painful. I warned you, they can be a little rowdy.”

“I quite enjoyed it,” she smiles and his head swivels down at her. She types in the keycode to get into the building. To her surprise, he enters. Apparently, she is getting escorted all the way up to her apartment. 

Her stomach swoops with excitement. 

“I’m glad,” he says. 

“Spending so much time with the troopers makes me feel a little more foolish, though, if I’m being honest.”

“Why’s that?”

They are walking painfully slow, even for her. His hips must be aching drawing his long legs at such a tempo. 

“It makes me feel like quite an idiot for ever having believed what the holonet says about clones.”

He hums. “But you changed your mind, that counts for something.”

“It gives me a little faith,” she confesses as they step into the lift. 

“Why?”

The doors hiss shut and they are alone. The air feels hot all of the sudden, like every molecule in the lift is vibrating. 

“If I can change my mind by learning that you’re human, who else can?”

He sighs and the doors ping open. “I don’t think that’s the question that needs to be asked.”

“What would you ask?”

“Who cares enough to change.”

She considers his words as they walk, still painfully slow, to her door. Luckily, it’s at the end of the hall. “That is a good question.”

“I do know one thing, though.”

“And what is that?” A smile rises to her lips. 

Despite their languid pace, her door is approaching faster than she would like and she dreads it. 

“That if anyone can _make_ someone care, it is you.”

She scoffs. “I’m no Senator Amidala.” 

They are outside her door. 

“No, you’re better.”

Her heart thunders in her chest. They both stand in front of her door, their shoulders almost leaning against the durasteel. “I- uh,” she blushes. “I’m not certain about that.”

She hears his smirk in the way he exhales. The modulator just barely catches his change in breathing. “Just take the compliment, Senator.”

She grins. “Perhaps you should take your own advice sometime, Commander.”

He shrugs and a charged silence hangs between them. 

“Would you like--”

“I should--”

They both start and stop at the same time, followed by a chuckle from both of them. 

“Would you like to come in?”

He hesitates. “I shouldn’t. It’s getting late.”

“Right,” she nods and rocks back on her heels. If he weren’t a clone, this would be the part of the night where she kisses him goodbye. 

And oh how she wants to. 

“We both have early days ahead of us,” he states, but doesn’t move to step away. Perhaps he is just as hesitant to end a wonderful day as she is. She wonders, just then, how often any of his days can be described with a positive adjective. 

Probably about as many as her. 

“We do.” She reaches down and takes one of his hands that had been hanging limply at his side. Ensnaring his gloved fingers into her gloveless ones, she runs her thumb across his knuckles. She wonders what his skin feels like. “Thank you again for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming.” He sounds breathless. 

“I had fun.”

“Me too.”

She watches her thumb drag back across the fabric. How did she end up here? When she landed on Coruscant she was petrified of clones, and now she is only scared of how much she feels for him. 

“I guess I must bid you good evening, Commander,” she glances once more at the imperceptible mask of his helmet. 

He straightens and slowly removes his fingers from her hand. He gives her a subtle bow and she smiles. Not because he is bowing, too many people do that on Coruscant, but because it feels like he is showing the only kind of affection he can here in the middle of her apartment hallway. 

“Have a good evening, Senator.”

She types the code into her door, steps inside, and keeps an eye on him as the door whirls shut only to fall against it, grinning from ear to ear. 

~

Two weeks later, when all the official forms have been approved and schedules have been aligned, the Clone Rights Committee gathers in chamber E-11. Ironic, Riyo thinks, since this was the chamber she was looking for when she and Fox essentially started their friendship. 

“Welcome,” she smiles at the four senators who have sworn themselves to trying to protect a group of men who have never once been on the receiving end of the word. “To the inaugural meeting of the Clone Rights Committee. On today’s agenda we have several points. Firstly, we need to select the number of clones we would like to test and interview so that may we include their data. If we were to include an accurate sample size, I’m afraid this would take longer than the war, so we will need to be creative.”

Riyo goes on to discuss the other more tedious details within her agenda. However, at the end of the meeting they have decided three things. One, they will leak an article tonight from Rundo Tosh, who will announce the committee. If they can get ahead of the news, then perhaps they can control it. Secondly, they need more members. Three, they are in desperate need of a clone to serve on their committee and they unanimously vote for Commander Fox. 

She just has to bring the news to him. He probably won’t be too pleased, what with all he has risked already and his insanely busy schedule that hardly alotts for sleep. 

The committee chamber clears out after adjournment, but Riyo lingers, packing up her datapads. The trooper guarding their meeting also lingers. Only when she exits, does he bid her a good day and walk off to his next engagement. 

“Riyo!” Fema Baab hisses as she runs up to her. “Do you have a second?”

“Sure?” Riyo tries, and fails, to keep the questioning hesitance from her voice. “What can I do for you, Fema?” She asks. 

Fema worries her bottom lip before she whispers. “Rumor has it you’ve started a committee for clones’ rights?”

Riyo looks around. “And what if I have?”

“I want to join.”

“What?” Riyo could pull her own hair out. Senators have been known for playing politics, speaking with silver tongues, but she wasn’t expecting a complete flip from someone who had lead rings of harassment. Someone who had personally spread rumors about hers. 

“If you have that committee, I’d like to join.”

“Why? I thought you hated them, _and_ me for that matter.”

Fema shifts her weight and glances over her shoulder. “Look,” she whispers. “I’ve had a change of heart. I can’t stop thinking about that night, where we were stuck in the stairwell? You saved my life, and when I woke up a trooper was seeing to my medical aid. He… He was so nice. He genuinely cared and in that moment, I realized I was wrong. I just… I wasn’t ready to make the flip yet if no one was going to stand behind me.”

“What so you’re only brave when you have a committee of politicians behind your back?”

Fema sighs. “I didn’t say I’m a perfect person, I said I want to help. That’s all I can offer. They’re just men trying to make their way in the universe like the rest of us.”

Riyo arches a delicate lilac brow. “I’ll send you a message if I hear anything.”

“Thank you, I promise I won’t let you down.”

~

_Shocking Results from Clone Sentiency Tests_

_One Clone Passed Sentiency_

_Is the GAR Sentient?_

Riyo flips through the headlines on the datapads before turning on her holoprojector and settling down with her toast and tea. She’s not certain she could stomach anything else with the way her insides are swooping. 

“Hello everyone and welcome to Morning Tea with Tora. This morning we are starting with an interview with Rundo Tosh, the no name journalist who has suddenly become the household rage,” Torah smiles. Her deep violet skin glistens with pink body glitter and her lekku are wrapped in a matching pink fabric. The camera zooms out slowly and includes Rundo Tosh in the frame; he looks a little sweaty, but that’s not entirely out of the ordinary. He is a heavier-set Twi’lek man, not nearly as heavy as Orn Free Taa, but it is rather clear that he survives off of donuts and deathsticks. 

“So,” Tora swivels and smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Mr. Tosh, may I call you Rundo?”

“Of course, yeah,” he pulls on his high, Nehu collar. 

“How does it feel becoming an overnight superstar?”

He swallows and fidgets with his collar once more. “I’m-I’m not sure.”

“It must be _so_ overwhelming.”

“I-I guess so. I’m just a journalist, ya know? It’s my job to bring people the news.”

Riyo sits back; last night her and Tosh had gone through every question. She had trained him to give Tora exactly the news she needed to hear. Control the narrative. Tora is known, infamous almost, for her burning interviews. She cuts straight to the meat and will find a way to twist words to make it seem like what her interviewee is saying is not at all what they mean. They are walking a delicate line right now. Clones have no positive reputation going into this and if Rundo blows it, they will have to fight twice as hard to make it. 

“What made you decide to write this article?”

_Yes._ They had trained for this. 

Tosh straightens, exuding confidence. “I received a tip and a data file with all of a clone’s test results. I… I couldn’t have lived with myself if I didn’t write it. This clone… this clone is a _man_ , he was able to crack jokes and talk about people he loves. People he _loves_ , Tora… may I call you that?”

She nods. 

“Tora, if this _man_ can love, can feel pain, can make jokes about his life, how could I not write an article exposing this atrocity? He and his people don’t have a choice on whether or not they can serve in the GAR. And don’t all sentients deserve a choice?”

“Are you saying that the Republic is supporting slavery?”

They hadn’t prepared for this. Riyo sits forward. Please, please please, let him not stick his foot in his mouth. 

“I’m saying that the Republic doesn’t do _enough_. I think you and I can both agree that their stance on slavery hasn’t been strong enough. What do you think?”

Tora smirks devilishly. “Rundo, I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

Riyo exhales heavily and sits back. The rest of the interview is a cakewalk. Rundo walks Tora through the results, what they mean and the varying possible test results. He discusses the Clone Rights Committee and explains that they plan to push for a volunteer based GAR. 

Tora seems receptive to it all, she hardly interrupts him - something that is _rare_ for her interviews - and even offers a compliment once or twice. “Thank you so much, Rundo,” she smiles at the end of their interview. “I would like to help the Clone’s Rights Committee in anyway possible. Let’s get our people together,” she turns back to the camera. “Coming up next we have the latest gossip on Kika Korshen and her failing marriage with Kiren Way.”

Riyo turns off her holoprojector and sighs with relief. 

~ 

Riyo has become _very_ bad at managing her time without Ilona, she realizes with a glance at her chrono. She understands, now, how Fox manages to forget to eat during the day. She has been in her office all day scouring over research questions, possible arguments against her legislation, so that she may prepare a defense and, of course, planning their exit strategy. The worst part about being a politician, at times, is that no one ever plans for the bill to be a success. So, when it does pass, they have no idea what to do and months pass before there is any action. 

Riyo will not have that on her watch. She doesn’t trust the Kaminoans. In the months where Riyo and her committee struggle to cope with a passed legislation, they could forcefully execute the entire GAR. 

So, she is planning light years ahead of where she needs to be, but everything, she decides, can wait until tomorrow. 

She is going to go home, draw a bath, and drink some wine. Perhaps even eat something terribly greasy and woefully unhealthy. 

Pulling her shawl from her coat rack, she takes up her sack of datapads and makes her way out to the parking garage. There is no one left in the senate hall apart from the cleaning droid and she is reminded, once again, that she works far too hard. 

It doesn’t matter, it will be worth it. 

As she walks, she types out a message to Ilona. She has been gone for a standard month now on Pantora, welcoming the new Chairman and rubbing elbows with everyone wealthy. However, she is slated to be back the day after next and Riyo is unimaginably excited. 

“You’re here late.”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Riyo whirls around. She has just stepped out of the lift and into the parking garage underneath the Senate Hall. “Senator Bibbeck, seems you are also burning the midnight oil.”

He nods. “What has you here so late?”

She shrugs. “A little bit of everything.” She takes a tentative step back. Her speeder is about five rows down and she is wearing heels. She doesn’t know why her brain starts making those automatic calculations, but the hair on the back of her neck is beginning to stand on end. 

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with the Clones’ Rights Committee? Would it?” He takes a step towards her. 

She takes a step back. “No. Pretty brave of someone to put together a committee, though.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Bibbeck snatches her wrist. “Where are you going, Chuchi?”

“Home,” she spits, trying to snatch her wrist away, but he tightens his grip. 

“What’s the rush?”

“Let me go, Bibbeck,” she snaps, pulling at her wrist once again. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.”

“Why don’t you show me a good time first, huh?” Bibbeck shoves her against the wall of the parking garage, her golden hair piece chimes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go,” she pushes against him, but he is taller, stronger. He claims her other wrist and her bag falls to the floor, spilling its contents. 

“Sure you do, you dirty little clone-fucker. If you can do them, you can do me.”

Her heart races as she pushes against him. “Let me go!” 

“I don’t think so,” he presses his nose into her hair. 

“Help!” She screams. “Someone help me!” His hand slaps over her mouth and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

“I don’t think so.” He shoves his knee in between her legs, forcing them open. 

She bites him. 

Yelping, he hauls back and smacks her across the face. Her golden headpiece rings with terror. Her eye feels like it is going to explode from the force exerted over her cheekbone. 

She hears his belt come undone and she fights harder, trying desperately to get one of her hands free from his durasteel grip. “Help!” She shrieks. 

He winds up to smack her again when suddenly a flash of red smears by her. For a blinding second she thinks she has died, that this is it, raped and murdered. But then she hears the familiar voice of a clone commander. 

“Get your hands off of her,” he growls. She looks up and sees Fox, hauling Bibbeck back and up against the wall. “What do you think you’re doing? Huh?”

“You can’t prove anything, _clone_.”

“Like hell I can. Buckets have cameras, dipshit. I have this whole thing recorded. You are under arrest, Senator Bibbeck, for assaulting Senator Chuchi. You have the right to remain silent,” he continues as he cuffs him and tosses him against the curb. 

Riyo stands there, mute, until Fox comes back to her. “Riyo, Riyo are you hurt?” He doesn’t touch her and she doesn’t know whether to be grateful or crumble into his arms. 

She shakes her head. “I’m okay. I want to go home, now.”

“We should probably take you to medical.”

She shakes her head again. “No,” she rasps. “No he just slapped me around. I’m okay.” 

“I have to wait for Stone to come get him and take him to jail. Do… I can call you a cab.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’ll wait for you.”

He nods. “Okay, yeah, okay. Alright. It should be a few minutes.” 

She nods and sinks to the duracrete. 

When Stone arrives, Fox comes back to her side. He gathers her things for her and guides her over to his speeder. The entire ride home is a blur. He escorts her to her apartment. She unlocks the door for him and they enter together in silence. 

“Where’s Ilona?” He asks, looking around at her quiet and dark apartment. 

“Pantora. She’ll be back the day after next.”

Fox nods awkwardly and removes his helmet. “Riyo, I--”

She says nothing but walks up to him and puts her arms around him. The plastoid is hard and grounding, but when he wraps his arms around her she feels like she is home. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.” 

She crumbles. With a sob, she falls apart in his arms and he holds her. Slowly, he lowers her to the ground and she sobs uncontrollably into his chest. She is petrified. If Fox had been just a moment later, if he hadn’t been there at all. 

Fox tries to run his fingers through her hair, but is stopped by her head piece. Swiftly, she reaches up and unpins it before tossing it aside unceremoniously. He hauls her back to his chest and she sobs again. He runs his hands through her hair now, gently and slowly while muttering soft reassurances. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

She knows she is. She feels safe here. With him. 

She leans away, wiping her eyes. “Thank you,” she croaks. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mutters and places a gentle hand on her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Are-are you sure you’re okay?”

She nods and his hand falls away. She looks him up and down. He is wearing the new armor. “I like it,” she says wetly, motioning to the armor. “It looks nice.”

“Thanks,” he gives her a weak smile. “Gauntlets are the best part, though.”

She smiles softly and catches his hand. “I painted those,” she rubs her other hand over the plastoid covering the back of his hand.

He nods. “I know.”

“Fox.”

“Riyo.”

“I have a very big favor to ask you, and please be honest with me if you cannot.”

“Anything.” He bends his head down to catch her downcast eyes. “Anything.”

“Can you,” she shivers with nerves. “Can you stay tonight? I’m terrified to be here by myself. Even if I wasn’t attacked in here, I just--” 

He cuts her off. “It won’t be an issue.”

“Are you sure?” She asks. 

“Yes.”  
“What about your men?”

“I’m the commander, when I say jump they ask how high.”

She throws her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she mumbles. 

He holds her closer, his large hands splaying across her back. “You don’t have to thank me.”

~

Fox has mixed feelings about staying here. _Technically,_ he isn’t breaking any regs. He is a clone commander guarding a senator who has just experienced an attempt on her life. But something about it feels _wrong_. 

No, he knows exactly what is wrong about it. 

It’s because he wishes he wasn’t here as a clone commander. 

He wishes he was here as “Just Fox” which is how she manages to make him feel more often than not. She humanizes him. She makes him feel emotions he didn’t even know existed. Like how his stomach flips when she catches his eye. Or how his veins feel like they’re filled with molten lava when she touches him. 

She makes him feel _alive_. 

She had walked into her bedroom a few moments ago, and shaking himself from his rapidly fraying internal monologue, he calls Thire. 

“Go for Thire,” his commlink chirps. 

“Thire. It’s Fox. Bibbeck assaulted Chuchi. She has asked me to stand guard within her apartment.”

“Oh fuck. How’s the Senator, sir?”

“Shaken.”

“Would you like two men outside?”

“If you have two to spare.”

“Yessir. They’ll be there by the end of the hour.”

“Thire.”

“Yessir?”

“You’re in charge, alright? I don’t want to get called out for any more emergencies tonight.”

“Like you even had to ask, sir. Take care of our girl.”

He ends the call just as Riyo steps out of her room, knocking the wind out of him. She is wearing a full length, silk nightgown that synches just under her breasts along with a similarly long silk robe. Her mauve hair looks wet, like she has just gotten out of the refresher, and is braided off to the side. 

He forces himself to find something interesting out the window. Curse him for taking off his bucket earlier, now he has to physically manage to keep his face impassive. 

“Who was that?” She asks, as she floats into the main sitting room, where Fox stands, suffering silently. She has just suffered a terrible event, he should _not_ gawk at her like she is the most beautiful creature to behold. 

“Thire,” he says to the window. 

“Do you have to go?” She sounds scared and his head snaps to her. Her golden eyes are wide with terror. 

“No. The opposite.”

She smirks. “Did you tell him to jump?”

He returns her smirk. “He was just clarifying as to how high.”

She looks down at her feet, which he now realizes are bare. He takes this quick second to take her in one last time, trying to memorize every tiny detail. His heart clenches at how effortlessly beautiful she is. 

“I’m going to turn in for the night. Is there anything I can get you?” She offers, looking up through her lashes. 

“No. I’m alright, I’m probably going to stay up for a while and finish forms.”

Her smile is soft and she walks up to him, resting a gentle hand on his bicep plate. Just on the lines he painted for her. “Try not to stay up too late, okay?”

He can barely speak. She smells floral and soft. “Try to get some sleep.”

“I will sleep just fine knowing you’re here,” she turns and floats into her bedroom and Fox wonders if this is all just a dream. 

He pinches himself, just to check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Guys, thank you so much!! I didn't think I was going to write another crazy long chapter, but here we are. I really hope you enjoyed it <33
> 
> Now, with [art](https://amukmuk.tumblr.com/post/633988058131365888/asdfjoiparg-okay-this-is-precious-thank-you-soo)!


	10. Written Clearly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader warnings!  
> 1\. There is a gory description of a dead animal at the beginning of the chapter, if you'd like to avoid that, read up to the end of Fox's scene with Tarkin and then skip the following scene.  
> 2\. There are some mild descriptions of panicking throughout the chapter, please tread carefully.

“WHAT!?” Ilona shouts, her coffee nearly sloshing across the nice marble table of the cafe they are in. 

Riyo sighs. “I’m not going to go over it again, it was quite traumatic.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were already on your way back. I didn’t see the point. Besides, Fox was with me.”

“Oh yes, _Fox was with you_.” Ilona rolls her eyes and sips her latte. 

“I thought you were over this whole hating-Fox thing.”

“I was gone for a month. One month and you’re practically in love with the man.”

“I am not… in love with him.”

Ilona arches a lilac brow. “Ri’chka, my love, my darling, my very best friend. You were basically mooning over him telling me the story about painting armor together.”

“I was not _mooning_.”

“You were mooning.”

“Ilona,” she hisses with a smile. She stares down at her cup and wraps her fingers around it tighter, the deep yellow contrasting against her skin. “I need to be serious about this. We are working on legislation to declare their sentiency and free them from the genocide that has been happening on Kamino. I pulled some reports. Did you know that anyone deemed ‘defective’ is just decommissioned, killed without remorse?”

Ilona shakes her head. 

“Yes. Did you know that ‘defective’ can be something as simple as different colored hair? It is sickening.”

Ilona grimaces. “It is terribly disgusting.” 

With a sigh, Riyo turns her head to look out to the Coruscant sky. “How is home?”

“Typical. Papanoida seems nice enough, I think you’d like him. He seems very much like the carry-your-own-blaster kind of guy. He has two daughters. They were nice enough to host me one night. His son is also,” Ilona wags her eyebrows. “Single.”

Riyo scoffs, she has eyes for one man and it is very, very illegal to think of him in that way. She had barely slept the night that Fox had stayed at her apartment, not for the fear of nightmares, but because he was _so_ close. She _knows_ she could have asked anything of him, to sleep in her bed with her, and he would have done it. 

“What else?” She asks, trying to get the image of Fox sleeping in her bed out of her mind.

“Your parents say hello, of course.”

“How are they doing?”

“They miss you. I had dinner with them a couple nights while I was there. They took me to Temple. You know, the usual stuff.”

Riyo nods. 

“I went to Royan’s grave.”

Riyo turns her head back to her friend. Ilona is staring blankly down at her latte. “I put some moon lilies out for him.”

“Thank you.”

Ilona looks out the window now. “I miss him so much.”

Reaching across the table, Riyo takes Ilona’s hand. She still wears her engagement ring. “I miss him too. But we need to keep living for him.”

Ilona nods. “Apart from Commander _Foxy_ , how is life here on Coruscant?”

“Well, you wouldn’t believe who asked me to join the committee.”

~

Fox stands in front of Admiral Tarkin, once again, presenting evidence to send Senator Bibbeck back to Colunda where he belongs before he further disgraces the Republic with his indecency. Well, that’s what is says on paper; Fox would much rather torture him slowly and without remorse, but he thinks that may be his sleep deprivation talking. 

Tarkin strokes his chin as he watches the video or the fifth time that Fox has been standing here. He has seen some pretty gruesome things in his time as Marshal Commander, but he can _not_ handle watching this again. As he rounds the corner to go to his own speeder, his helmet comm picks up Riyo’s cry for help. It physically feels like a vibroblade being jammed between his ribs each time Tarkin replays it. It’s a high-pitched shriek that Fox hopes he never has to hear again for the rest of his short, miserable life. 

Then, when he sees Bibbeck with his grimey mitts all over their girl, _his_ vision had turned red and blurry, but his bucket had flawlessly captured him following protocol. Nice to know that when he blacks out with rage, he at least still follows the rules. 

“I’m afraid there is nothing I can do,” Tarkin sighs, steepling his fingers. 

Fox counts back from five before he grinds out. “ _What_?”

“There is nothing that can be done without a testimony from Senator,” he looks at the paper. “Riyo Chowchi?”

“ _Chuchi_ ,” Fox corrects. 

Tarkin waves his hands dismissively. “For all I know, from this footage, they were merely playing at one of those… more adventurous sex games.”

Fox bites the inside of his cheek until he bleeds. “With all due respect, Admiral, but you heard her scream.”

“Purely circumstantial.”

Fox is going to _circumstantial_ him in a minute. 

“And she has bruises on her wrists from where he held her so tightly.”

“This simply proves she likes it rough, Commander.”

That’s it. 

Fox slams his hands down on the table and looms over Tarkin. To his _absolute_ delight, Tarkin flinches. With his voice deep and deadly, he points one threatening finger and growls, “That is _enough_. I understand that we may have different feelings towards Senators Bibbeck and Chuchi, but you are out of line. Senator Chuchi was assaulted on Senate property. If you are too _spineless_ to handle this like a real commanding officer, then I will take this to the Chancellor along with all of the evidence I previously introduced to you regarding Bibbeck’s spice trafficking. And perhaps this time I will happen to find your name on his payroll.”

“Is that a threat, Commander?” Tarkin’s eyebrows scrunch together. 

Fox leans forward. “I don’t make threats, Admiral.”

The intended meaning seems to be communicated as Admiral Tarkin takes the infodisc and clears his throat. “I suppose I can look further into this.”

Fox leans back. “Excellent, if you need any help from the Guard, feel free to contact me.”

And he slides on his helmet, swooshing out the door before Tarkin can fit in another word. 

~

“Riyo, there is a package for you!” Ilona calls as she enters the apartment. “Do you want me to open it for you?”

Riyo meets her in the formal sitting. Every time she enters this room, a new feeling washes over her. Before, it used to be the formal sitting. Now, it is the room in which Fox supposedly slept on the couch a handful of nights ago. When she woke, he was already awake, having helped himself to a pot of caf. 

And _stars_ , does he make incredibly strong caf. 

She was certain it was so strong that she could stand her spoon in it.

In the morning, she had felt much safer and sent him on his way, only after she promised a dozen times to let him know as soon as something happened. If something happened. 

“No, I can open it,” Riyo says, grabbing her letter opener to cut open the tape sealing the box shut. “I can’t imagine who is sending me anything,” she pulls open the flaps and stops. “Oh sweet goddess.” Her hand flies over her mouth, but not before she wretches into a decorative bowl on her end table. 

“What is it?” Ilona steps over and peers into the box. “Oh my _stars_.”

Inside the unmarked box is a dead arctic fox with its throat slashed, its crimson blood staining its crisp, white fur in wet streaks. 

Riyo wretches over the bowl again as Ilona pulls up the bloody note written on flimsi. “Ri’chka.”

“What?” She rasps, preparing for another wretch. She knows Ilona’s family used to be butchers, but she can hardly look at it. 

“There’s a note.”

“Read it.”

Ilona swallows thickly and pulls open the sodden paper with her finger tips. “It says: ‘Some animals are just that. It would be best you remembered this’.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Riyo straightens herself. “We have to take this to Fox.”

Ilona nods. “I was thinking the same thing. Stay here, I’m grabbing the speeder.”

“Wait,” Riyo orders, running into her bedroom. Under her bed, in a small cherry box, is the pistol her father had given her when she graduated law school. “Take this,” she hands it to her, grip first. 

Ilona nods and rushes out of the apartment. 

~

Riyo carries the box into the Coruscant Guard office. Her heart is hammering in her chest and she, for the first time, fears for her life. Fort smiles and waves as she enters, but she can’t bring herself to return the gesture. 

Her feet carry her back to Fox’s office while her mind races. 

Balancing the box in one hand, she knocks. 

“Come in,” he beckons. 

She enters and he looks up, a smile blooming on his face until he sees that she is _not_ okay. 

“Riyo,” his voice is strained with concern. “Are you alright?”

She shakes her head, and Ilona ushers her into the office. 

“Riyo. Riyo, what’s in the box?” He stands from his seat.

“A threat,” she rasps. She can taste her own vomit from earlier stinging her tongue. 

“What kind of threat? Riyo, what’s in the box?” He rounds the desk and his hands hover near the box, clearly deciding the amount of force he should use to remove it from her grasp. 

She pulls open the flap. “A dead fox with a note reminding… reminding me that some things are just animals.”

His eyes grow wide and he snatches the box out of her hands. “Both of you stay here. Don’t move from this room,” he commands as he exits in a rush. 

Ilona comes and puts a reassuring arm around Riyo. “Everything will be okay.”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick again,” Riyo mutters.

Ilona grabs the trashcan from beside Fox’s desk and Riyo hurls into it once more. As she wretches for the third time, Fox opens the door, causing both of the women to jump. His eyes float to Riyo and he looks desperate, like he wants to take all of her pain away. “Come on, you two with me, we are going to a security briefing.”

Riyo clings to her trashcan and follows Fox while Ilona rubs her back slowly. In the briefing room, the lights are mostly dark, apart from the briefing table in the center that glows a faint blue. Around the table are four men, all with the same face, but different hair cuts. One has a completely shaved head, another has a shaggier version of Fox’s hair, and the beginning stages of a beard, the third has a military grade haircut and mustache - Thire she thinks - and the final one has bright red hair. They all straighten when she and the commander enter. 

“Everyone, at ease. Senator Chuchi, these are Commanders Stone, Thorn, Thire and Lieutenant Puck. Boys, this is Senator Chuchi.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” the one named Stone smiles. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”  
She nods; words are failing her and she can hardly keep herself upright. She grips the edge of the table with white knuckles. Her trashcan has magically been removed from her hands, and with a quick glance she sees Ilona lower it to the floor. She doesn’t even remember handing it over. Everything is moving at a dizzying speed and standing still all at once.

“It looks like someone wants you dead, ma’am,” Thorn states plainly, drawing her back to reality. “Typically in scenarios like this, we remove the at-risk senator from the equation. Is there someplace you would feel safe at for a couple weeks?”

“It will just be until the news calms down about the clones’ rights committee,” Thire clarifies. 

“Yes,” she says, immediately thinking of her parents’ farm. “Yes I have a place on Pantora.”

“Then we will send a squad with you,” Fox says. 

All of the clones on the other end of the table share nervous glances and Fox arches an eyebrow at them. 

“With all due respect sir,” Puck begins. “We think you should go with her.”

“I’m needed here, that isn’t an option.” Her stomach churns. 

“Sir,” Thire sighs. “Whoever it was threatened her with a _dead_ fox. You two are known for being cordial. She defended you in a viral holonet video. You can’t think that is a coincidence do you?” 

Fox’s jaw clenches. 

“If I may,” Riyo finally speaks and everyone turns to look at her. Her voice hardly feels like her own; like she is far away from her own body. “I would feel better if you came with me.”

Fox looks conflicted, but only for a moment before he concedes. “Okay. Thorn, escort the Senator to a safehouse. Puck, get two men to escort Miss Minarek back to the senate hall. Ma’am, you will be acting as her representative, but keep a low profile. We will provide you with a full security detail at all times. Stone, put together a team to figure out who is behind this. Thire, with me.”

With that everyone disperses and the scruffy-looking clone is by her side. As she exits, she casts one look over her shoulder at Fox and Thire. Fox’s brow is furrowed as he speaks seriously to Thire. He spares one glance at her and he gives her a reassuring nod. 

Everything is going to be alright. 

~

Fox arrives at the safehouse in civilian clothes, feeling naked. He is wearing a simple grey tunic, a black jacket, black pants and boots with his service weapons strapped to calf holsters and not to his belt. He pulls two suitcases out of the back of his speeder, one for each of them. Ilona had given him the bag this morning and, to his surprise, a hug. She had wished him a safe travel and asked that he guard Riyo with his life, as if that wasn’t already his intention. 

The plan is for them to travel as refugees. They will take public transportation and arrive in the capital city of Pantora. Ilona had also said that Riyo would probably appreciate a detour to see her family; he figured he could allow this one small comfort. Then they are going to sequester themselves in her parents’ farm house for two weeks while they wait for things to simmer down. 

If they simmer down. 

He knocks in code on the safehouse door and Reese answers it. “Commander!” He salutes. 

“At ease,” Fox sighs and steps into the apartment. Riyo is waiting for him, and if he hadn’t known it was her, he probably wouldn’t have recognized her. 

All of her mauve locks are tucked neatly away under a brown scarf and her markings are covered up and replaced with a simple thin gold line down the center of her chin. “Fox,” her voice quivers. 

He tries to give what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Our flight leaves in an hour and half. Are you ready?”

She chews her bottom lip and then nods. 

“Reese, let Thire know that I’ve got the Senator and we are heading out. Also,” he tosses the keys to his speeder to Reese. “Take these.”

“Yessir!” 

As they step outside, Fox pulls up his mask - which also doubles as a scarf, conveniently - and his hood over his head. He shares a face with several million men, no sense in getting made before they leave Coruscant. Stepping up to the curb, he raises a hand to hail a cab. When the questionable looking speeder pulls up to the side, he opens the door for Riyo and she slides across the bench seat. He tosses their suitcases in the trunk and slides in next to her. 

To his surprise, she reaches down and claims his hand. 

Her eyes are wide with fear and her breaths are coming out stunted and harsh as she struggles to stay calm. He exaggerates his own breathing so that she can see his chest rising and falling slowly. 

With her lips parted slightly, she follows his breathing. He nods in encouragement, but doesn’t speak. 

As if his looks weren’t bad enough, anyone on Coruscant could recognize his voice as a trooper’s. 

Giving him a soft smile, she squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. 

~

Thankfully, they get on the transport without incident. It will be a 20 hour trip with several stops along the way to allow other passengers to get off or on, depending on their destination. Another small mercy is that they have their two seats to themselves. The transport is long and narrow, featuring two seats along each of the walls and then a row of four in the middle. If Fox had not worked on Coruscant for so long, he might have been impressed by all the walks of life seen on this one ship barreling through hyperspace. 

Riyo, at least, has finally relaxed. 

She has settled in the inside seat, per his request, and is scrolling through her datapad. 

“Have you ever been to Pantora?” She asks. 

“No,” he answers. 

“I think you’ll like it,” she turns off her datapad and stares out the viewport of the streaks of blue flying by. 

“Why’s that?”

“It’s quiet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever truly experienced the meaning of the word.”

She snorts a laugh and looks up at him. “It’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

“Tell me about it?” He asks, mostly because he wants to keep her mind from the reason _why_ they are travelling to her home, but also because he genuinely wants to know. When Riyo describes something, she has a way of only seeing the good and beautiful things, whereas he only sees threats and possible points of weaknesses in security. 

She smiles. “Well, the farm is gorgeous. Especially at this time of year, all of the leaves are this deep, deep red. The air is crisp, and, if we are lucky we may get to see the first snow of the season.”

“I’ve never seen snow before,” he states.

“Oh it’s lovely. Of course, some hate it, especially those inclined to like warmer temperatures, but I love it.” A smile grows on her face as she remembers. “Before the first snow you can hear everything. Avians chirp in the morning and in the evening you can hear the wolves howl in the distance. After the first snow everything is silent. Not a creature can be heard and everything is covered in this beautiful, crystalline white. I imagine it is what heaven looks like.”

Fox tries to imagine that, but the only vision of white he has, comes with bone-aching sterility and pain. “It sounds beautiful,” he lies. 

She clears her throat. “I was wondering, if it would be okay, could we stop by my parents’ apartment in the city before we head out to the countryside?”

“Of course. I scheduled it in. We will need to be discreet though, I wouldn’t want them becoming targets,” he quietly adds. 

She nods. “They are going to adore you.” 

Staring at her, he blinks a few times to try and process her words. “ _Why_?”

She smiles softly. “Why wouldn’t they? You’re a good man, Fox.” With that she turns her datapad back on and opens a crossword puzzle. “Now, what is the name of the grandmaster of the Jedi Order?”

“Pretty sure that’s Yoda.”

She counts the squares. “I think you’re right.”

~

After they complete their crossword puzzle they settle into a peaceful quiet. Before long, Riyo’s head rests against the headrest as she quietly snores. Fox glances down at her in awe. She looks so small, so fragile. Funny, how someone can look so defenseless yet be so incredibly fierce. Riyo Chuchi is a force to be reckoned with, but no one would know it in this moment. 

She shifts and a small pink hair slips from her head scarf. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he reaches up and tucks it back. It has to be the softest movement he has ever done in his life, but he couldn’t resist. He _needs_ to touch her, like he needs to breathe. 

A small smile curves her lips, he thinks for sure that he has woken her, and she settles further in her seat with a small shiver. Without a second thought, Fox shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over her gently and settles back into his own seat. 

~

Fox is elbow deep in reports with Riyo sleeping heavily beside him when the ship shakes. His mind flashes back to Geonosis when his transport ship had been shot from the sky; his stomach churns and his throat constricts. He looks up, but no one seems to be panicking, so tries to calmly return to his datapad. He can feel himself spiraling, though, and he tries to remember the breathing exercises Thire taught him, that is until he feels a warmth on his shoulder and he inhales a faint floral scent that he has come to associate with Riyo Chuchi. Glancing down, he sees her snoozing comfortably on his shoulder, her delicate blue fingers adjusting his jacket so that it further encapsulates her. 

Smiling, his chest swells with how much love he has for her. 

How much _what_?

His heart races. _Love_? 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t love her; he has just never really thought much about it. He just always assumed that he loved her like a friend, like a brother, but now he has the overwhelming urge to press a kiss to the top of her head. He would kill for her. Hell, he would die for her. But most importantly, he just wants to spend everyday with her. He can’t get enough. Even while she sleeps, he lets himself fantasize about his life after the war with her. He’d hold her close while she slept and wake in the morning with her, slowly, while golden light filtered through the window and caught the glimmer of her clan tattoos that he loves so much. 

They exit hyperspace with a violent rock and Riyo snorts in her sleep. He should probably wake her in case she wants to step off the ship and stretch her legs. “Hey,” he murmurs. She grumbles. “Riyo, hey.” He very carefully jostles his shoulder and she leans up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. 

_Stars_ , he wants to kiss her. 

“Are we there already?” She asks and her voice cracks from lack of use. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Halfway point.”

She nods and stretches. “Sorry I fell asleep on you. I’m sitting right under the vent and you are so warm.”

A smile twists up on the end of his lips. “Glad I was here.”

“Do you mind getting up for a second? I’d like to use the ladies,” she stands and he does the same, stepping into the aisle so that she can exit. 

She takes his jacket with her, though, keeping it wrapped around her like a cape and the tails of it drag slightly across the floor. He is absolutely positive he has a dopey grin on his face. 

Across the aisle, an older gentleman catches Fox’s hand, nearly sends him into a fight for survival. “Sir?” Fox asks. 

“Sorry, my boy, I didn’t mean to spook you.”

Fox blinks incredulously at him and reclaims his hand. 

“I just wanted to tell you how lucky ya are. Is she your wife?”

“No, sir,” Fox answers, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his gut. He had never really wanted a life outside of the GAR, but now the idea is slowly seeping into his mind. 

“Well, you best hold on to that lil lady. She loves you, it's written clear as day on her face. You don’t find a love like that just every day in the galaxy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

With that, the old man turns back to his datapad and Fox falls back in his seat, mostly to avoid further awkward conversations with civilians. 

Clear as day on her face? The old man is clearly crazy. Absolutely batshit bonkers. 

“Excuse me,” Riyo says as she attempts to squeeze between his knees and the seat in front of him. There isn’t much room for him, let alone for a slender Pantoran Senator to squeeze through. That doesn’t stop her from trying, though, and her foot gets caught on his ankle, sending her tumbling forward. 

His hands snap up and catch her around the waist. Her face is so close to his that he can see the creases in the blue powder she has caked over her real tattoos. His eyes flash to her lips, they look so soft and unchapped unlike his own. When his eyes flick back up to hers, he finds her staring at his mouth as well. 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, untangling herself from him, and falls into her chair. “Appears I’m rather clumsy.”

Fox clears his throat. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

She whacks him with her datapad and giggles. He chuckles too and their eyes meet. 

These two weeks are about to be dangerous. 

~

The ship lands rather smoothly for what Fox was expecting. He has only flown on military craft and the pilots were taught to, well, make sure they landed. So, when a military pilot sets down a ship, they set it down hard enough to let you know you’ve hit land. 

The duo waits for their turn to get up and Fox grabs both of their suitcases, motioning for her to exit ahead of him. Riyo leads the way and when they step off of the ship she beams. 

The air is crisp, and the sky is a vibrant blue - not like Coruscant’s artificial hazy blue - with fluffy white clouds breaking up its endless brilliance. Fox has never seen so much sky before. Tearing his eyes away from the view, he catches Riyo smiling at him. 

“Just wait until you see the countryside,” she says. 

He clears his throat. “I’ll hail a cab,” he says. 

“Oh, let me do it. Pantorans can… be a little prejudiced.”

He huffs, “Just when I thought I’d be getting away from that.”

“No, I don’t mean it that way,” she hails a cab, her hand gesture completely different from that of a Coruscanti hail. “I mean that we live in the outer rim and things are a little different out here. Not many people come here for vacation. Anyone not blue is automatically seen as an outsider, but they won’t treat you poorly. If anything, they’ll invite you for tea and pick your brain.”

He tosses their bags once more in the trunk and climbs in after her. She gives the driver the address and Fox a tender smile. His stomach flips with nerves. He’s about to meet her parents. That, he thinks, is a pretty important event for nat-borns. He suddenly feels inadequate in every sense of the word. His hair is a little longer than he would normally keep it; he hadn’t bothered cutting it before he left: one, because he isn’t going to be wearing his bucket and two, because he is trying to look _less_ like a clone. His clothes are plain, but they had planned for that too. Riyo doesn’t look like a senator or a person born of any royal status either, so he tries to quell his nerves. 

When they arrive at the apartment landing pad - it has its own landing pad, a sign of wealth in Coruscant - Riyo steps out with excitement and Fox follows behind her with far _less_ excitement. He feels like he is getting ready to start his first day of command class. He had puked right beforehand. He hadn’t let his younger brother see, though; they looked up to him to be the calm and collected touchstone, but he had been a wreck. 

Fox quickly counts back from ten as Riyo approaches the door and politely rings the chime. He stands a few paces behind her and waits for the door to open. 

“I, uh, can wait out here if you want me to,” he says. 

“You will do no such thing.” She grabs his elbow and drags him forward so that they are standing side by side. The door slides open and reveals an elderly Pantoran woman and Fox is immediately shocked at how much she looks like Riyo, but older. She has the same wide eyes and round cheeks, but her mauve hair is mostly white. She has the golden cheek tattoos, but she also has a small upside down triangle tattooed in the center of her forehead. 

“Riyo?” The woman asks. 

Riyo nods fervently and the woman hauls her into a hug.

“Oh, Ri’chka it’s been too long!” And then suddenly he can’t understand a word they are saying. The words are very clearly not-Basic and he struggles to try and understand from just hand gestures alone. 

The older woman smiles and looks up to him. “And you must be Fox, Ri’chka has told us all about you. Come in, come in,” she beckons them in and Fox can feel his face heating. “I’m going to put on some tea.” She says, leaving them in the formal sitting. The ceiling is high and has an impressive golden chandelier hanging from the center of the room. The walls are painted a warm tan and the carpet is beige with a large, intricate design of a star just below the chandelier. There are two navy couches on either side of the star and a golden coffee table between them. 

“Fox,” Riyo keeps her voice low. “I suppose we should have gotten our story straight before we came here, but let's not tell my parents that I’m possibly being threatened.”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Also,” she begins. “Let’s not mention anything about the harassment.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And it would probably be best to not speak of Senator Bibbeck at all.”

He smirks. “Is there anything I _can_ talk about?”

“Yes,” she pauses. “How lovely and stress free my life is.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You want me to _lie_?”

“Lie is such a _strong_ term.”

Her mother returns with the tea and orders them to make themselves at home. Obediently, they both sit on the couch, careful to keep enough room for another person to sit between them. 

“So what brings you home, my darling?” She asks, her Basic is more heavily accented than Riyo’s and it makes him feel a little more comfortable with his own thick Kaminoan accent. 

“Well,” Riyo begins, clearly struggling to construct a lie on the spot. 

“I was injured in the line of duty and Senator Chuchi offered to bring me here for some rest and recovery, ma’am,” Fox lies effortlessly. 

He didn’t earn his name for nothing. Riyo seems impressed, though, and turns to him with a quizzical brow. 

“Oh! How nice of her! Have you ever been to Pantora before?”

“No, ma’am. I was hoping to see the countryside while I’m here. I’ve been stationed on Coruscant for most of my time in the GAR and it’ll be nice to appreciate some fresh air,” he continues. 

Mrs. Chuchi pours them both tea and hands them cups. “We’ll have to ask Ro when he gets home, but I’m sure he will have no issue letting you both stay at the farm. I’m afraid, Ri’chka, with your father’s back, he wasn’t able to make it out there this year so everything is probably terribly run down.”

Riyo frowns. “Mama, Royan bought this apartment for you both so you _wouldn’t_ work in the fields anymore.”

Mrs. Chuchi huffs at the reprimand. “Idle hands do nothing for a racing mind, Ri’chka.”

Rolling her eyes, Riyo sips her tea. Fox does the same and tries not to wince at the heavy spice. Riyo, thank the stars, has been slowly introducing him to flavors of food, but drinking straight cinnamon burns the back of his throat. 

“Where is Baba, anyway?” Riyo questions, setting her tea cup on the table. 

“Oh, the temple. The young boys are learning how to escort ladies for the winter solstice ball,” she rolls her eyes. “Like a countryman has any place teaching proper manners.”

Riyo giggles and Fox hides his smirk with his teacup. 

“So tell me, what’s new? I’ve received your letters and Ilona came by not too long ago.”

Riyo hesitates before speaking. “I’ve been working on some very important legislation, unfortunately I can’t talk much about it. Also, Fox has been kind enough to allow me to spend time with the troops. I helped them paint their armor.”

“Oh that’s wonderful! Fox, did you know that Riyo is quite a talented painter?”

“I didn’t, no,” Fox shakes his head and sets his teacup down. 

“Yes, she is! She painted the mural over there,” she points to the wall with the door on it. On the right hand side of the door is a massive window and on the left is an equally large painting of a field. It’s breathtaking. The sun is just coming up over the horizon, illuminating the sky in bright pinks and purples and reflecting off the long grass. 

Riyo blushes, “Mama, stop it.”

“She was going to become an artist until… well,” Mrs. Chuchi clears her throat. “Anyway, you will see plenty of her other works if you go out to the farm.”

Just as she says this, the door slides open, revealing a Pantoran man. He is slightly hunched and as he enters, he pulls off his jacket. “Polina, I have no idea how to help those boys dance right, you would think they were all born with two left feet.” He stops short when he sees Riyo sitting on the couch. “Is that my Ri’chka? What do you have on your face?” he asks, rushing across the room in four strides to pick her up in his arms. 

“Baba,” she croons, squeezing him just as tightly. Fox’s stomach churns as he is overwhelmed with longing for his brothers. He has never known the love of a father or a mother, but the love of a brother is an unbreakable bond that he misses all of the sudden. He has never been so far away from them - never been the only clone in a room before. 

“The paparazzi on Coruscant are actual menaces. I covered my face so that they wouldn’t recognize me as easily.”

Mr. Chuchi clucks his tongue, “Go wash that off and be proud of being a Chuchi.”

Smiling, she steps away to go to the refresher. As her father turns away she looks to Fox and mouths, “Stay, I’ll be right back.”

He swallows and focuses on cementing his feet to the carpet. He is _very_ alone with her family and he has no clue how to maneuver this particular situation. 

“Are you this Fox fellow that Ri’chka keeps writing about?”

For the second time that day, Fox’s heart flutters at the idea of her writing about him to her parents. What did she say? Did she mention anything about how she feels towards him?

“Yessir,” Fox answers politely. 

Mr. Chuchi eyes him. “You’re one of them clones aren’t you?”

Fox swallows, preparing for whatever slur that may tumble out of the man’s mouth. They are only going to be here for a night, it won’t be so bad. “Yessir.”

Mr. Chuchi clucks his tongue again. “Damn shame how you boys are getting treated.”

“He was injured in the line of duty, Ro. Ri’chka wants to take him to the farm to get some well deserved rest.”

Mr. Chuchi arches a white eyebrow. “I don’t see why not. I’m afraid it’s probably all overgrown with weeds. Haven’t had much time to get out there and do some manual labor.”

“Maybe I can--” Fox begins. 

Mr. Chuchi holds up his hand. “Absolutely not. You are here to _rest_ , young man. Get some sleep. But make sure you go to the harvest festival. You’re just in time for it.”

“What are we just in time for?” Riyo asks and Fox’s heart races all over again. She has taken off her headscarf and face paint. Her mauve locks are braided back neatly and she is proudly wearing her Chuchi markings once more. When he realizes he is gawking, he closes his mouth and swallows, reaching for his tea cup. As he does, he sees Mrs. Chuchi smirking at him devilishly before sipping her own tea. 

~

As luck would have it - and Fox definitely considers it luck - Mrs. Chuchi made an entire pot of Pantoran chili for dinner, enough to feed almost half of the GAR it seems. It smells amazing, like warmth and spice and fried meat. He helps Mr. Chuchi - Ro, he had insisted by going by his first name - set the table, something so mundane that Fox has a genuine appreciation for it. He has never eaten a meal at a ‘set’ table. He has always been chowing down on the fly or grabbing slop from the mess before returning to his office. Only recently has he been exposed to _real_ cuisine and he is ecstatic to try Polina’s soup. 

Both of the women emerge from the kitchen with bowls and set them neatly in the center of the gold placemats. They all take a seat around the round table, Riyo taking the one closest to him.

“Let us join hands,” Ro begins and Polina and Riyo both take up Fox’s hands. His heart lurches, embarrassment heating his face; his hands are horribly calloused from a lifetime of war and he’s terrified that Polina - or worse, Riyo - will be disgusted by them, but he is surprised when he feels Polina’s are just as coarse. Riyo’s, however, feel like fine silk and are so, _so_ warm, but she doesn’t move to pull away, if anything she holds his hand like it is the most natural thing in the galaxy. “Thank you, sweet Goddess, for bringing our family together safely. May you bless us with continued good health and hope for a galaxy at peace.”

Both of the women let go of his hands and Riyo flashes him a smile. “Time to eat.”

Fox watches them for etiquette, but everything looks pretty normal. They eat with their spoons and occasionally use their bread to sop up the liquid. Fox does the same; he scoops up soup into his spoon, blows on it to cool, and shovels it into his mouth only to sputter. It is _very_ spiced and he was _not_ ready for it.

"Oh! Fox!" Riyo chirps. "I forgot to tell you. Mama’s soup can be quite hot!"

"Ro! Quick go grab the boy some milk!" Polina orders 

Ro shoots up and Polina hands him more bread, "Here, take this sweetie. It'll take away some of the burn."

He can feel his face turn dark crimson as he accepts the bread. "I'm fine, really," he says with a cough, which, in truth, does not do a good job of convincing them. 

“Drink this,” Ro says, handing Fox the milk. Fox takes a sip and sure enough, some of the burn _does_ dissipate. 

“Thanks,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, it is very good. I just, ah, I’m not used to eating spiced food,” he explains, feeling his ears join his cheeks in a hot blush. 

Riyo smiles and pats his knee under the table. He supposes that it’s meant to make him feel better, but if he didn’t have such a good Sabaac face, he would be gawking. What does she think she is doing? Touching him, a _clone_ , on the knee like it is nothing? Thankfully, his face can’t get any redder. “I’ve been bringing him lunch,” she says. “You wouldn’t believe the poor excuse for food they serve these men.”

Ro shakes his head. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again but that Chancellor of yours deserves to be beheaded like the olden days. He took power without runnin’ a proper election campaign _and_ is fightin’ a war we don’t need to be fightin'.”

“Ro, no politics at the dinner table,” Polina hisses. 

“It’s not politics, it’s the truth,” Ro grumbles, stirring his soup. 

What surprises Fox, though, is that he can’t find an argument against him. Palpatine did come to power in a questionable manner and he used an army that had started growing long before he took office. Fox can’t exactly hate the war, he wouldn’t be here if it didn’t happen, but he can find the rise to power and use of an army that wasn’t intended for him rather suspicious. 

What he is thinking, though, is blasphemous. So he squashes it away and listens as Ro and Polina tell Riyo about their daily happenings. 

~

Ro shuffles a deck of cards. “Now, tell me Fox, have you ever played Banthashit?”

Fox sputters not for the first time this evening. He has come to learn that Ro is not one to mince words, but the old Pantoran still manages to surprise Fox with his straight forward questions. 

“I can’t say I have, sir,” Fox answers. 

Ro waves his hand dismissively at the automatic honorific used. “The rules are quite simple. Lie your ass off and keep a good sabaac face.”

Sabaac? Fox happens to be the reigning champ of the Corrie Guard. 

Polina clucks her tongue. “No, Fo’chka. There is a little more to it than that, don’t let this old coot pull one over on you. He’s the biggest cheater of the bunch.”

Ro huffs with indignation. 

“Basically,” Riyo smiles. “We all start with a hand full of cards. We start at aces and work our way up to king. Each time you have to lay down one or more cards. _But_ they don’t have to be the number called. So we start with aces, right? But you don’t have any, so you lay down a seven face down. No one knows, but you.” She shrugs. “If someone thinks you're lying, though, they call ‘Banthashit’.” He smirks at hearing her curse. “And if they’re right, you did lie, you have to pick up the discard pile and essentially start all over again. If you didn’t lie, then they have to pick the discard pile.”

Ro keeps shuffling. “Polina, where is the scoreboard?”

“Oh!” She gets up and returns with a board with several names and numbers written on them. At the top, though, is Riyo. 

Riyo, upon seeing Fox’s realization, gives him a devilish smirk. “I hope you’re ready to play with the reigning champ,” she grins. 

“I will have you know I’m the Sabaac champ of the Corrie Guard,” Fox counters, accepting the cards that Ro has dealt him. 

All she does in response is wink and his stomach flips. 

“Alright,” Ro says, when all the cards are dealt. “I expect a good clean game. Now how do we want to decide who goes first?”

“Whoever can name all the capitals of outer rim planets?” Polina asks.

Ro scoffs. “That would be a cakewalk for Ri’chka.”

“Whoever can say the alphabet backwards the fastest?” Riyo suggests. 

All of them look at each other and shrug. 

Fox feels bad, he probably should say something. But reciting the alphabet backwards is how he keeps himself from throttling people when he runs out of numbers. 

“Fox!” Riyo laughs. “How can you do that so fast?”

He shrugs. “Secret talent, I guess.”

She shakes her head, a small curl falling loose from her braid and hanging in her face. 

So, he gets to go first. He calls ‘aces’, like Riyo had said to do, and they continue clockwise around the table, Riyo going after him. 

Fox studies the table, they all have hands filled with cards, and he knows that he has three kings. 

When he calls ‘fours’, Ro calls ‘Bantha’ on Polina. 

Polina gasps in horror and flips over her cards to reveal that they were not, in fact, fours. She gathers up the discard stack and they start anew. They make it a couple more times around the table when Riyo looks to her father, “Bantha.” She accuses to his discarding of a supposed seven. 

“Ri’chka do you really think I would lie?” 

Both Polina and Riyo say yes, Polina, trying to juggle her entire hand of discards when she does. 

He flips over his discard, it is a ‘nine’. Damn, Fox had really hoped it would be the final king. 

The game continues until they get to the final card - the king. Fox calls it and lays his final three cards down, Riyo lays down her final one. 

“Bantha,” Fox accuses. 

Riyo swivels to him, her perfect politician smile that he has seen so many times plastered to her face. “What’d you just say?”

“Banthashit,” Fox says, leaning a little closer to her when the light behind her eyes starts to dance. 

“Are you sure you really want to challenge the reigning champ on the final discard?” She asks. 

He nods. “I know what was in my hand.” 

She smirks, “By all means, flip it over then.”

He does and his jaw drops. 

It is a king. 

Ro booms a laugh. “Ah! Ri’chka still wiping the floor with that politician smile!” 

Riyo giggles and then stifles a yawn. “I’m afraid I’m rather tired,” she smiles. 

“Oh!” Polina jumps up. “I’ll go get the extra blankets. Your room is just how you left it. Fo’chka you can sleep in Royan’s room if you’d like.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he nods and she tuts. 

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am’, Fo’chka. You’re family, call me Ma or Polina.” She pats his shoulder and his chest tightens. The only family he has ever known is deployed throughout the entirety of the galaxy. Before he can think of anything else to say, she flitters off to go find more blankets for them. Everyone begins to disperse and as Riyo stands with a stretch, she lays a gentle hand on Fox’s shoulder. 

His heart nearly stops beating and when she pulls away, he wishes she hadn’t. 

~

Riyo pulls on her plain cotton nightgown and re-braids her hair down her back when there is a knock on her door. 

Hoping it is Fox, but knowing it is her mother, she palms open the door. “Mama, come in,” she says in Pantoran. 

Her mother smiles and hands her a cup of hot chocolate. “Ri’chka. I very much like your friend.” 

Riyo nods. “He is a good man.”

“A pity,” her mother clucks. “That he can’t be more than a friend.” She eyes her and Riyo suppresses the urge to groan. 

“Ma,” she sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her. Her mother sits. “There are rules right now that I cannot break. Even if I wanted to.”

“And do you want to?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Riyo puts her head in her hands. 

“Ri’chka, my darling.” Her mother rubs a circle on her back. “You are overthinking this. Nothing has to happen tonight. I just wanted to open your eyes to him. He loves you so much. It is written so clearly on his face.”

“He does not.”

“Think what you want.” Her mother pats her hand. “But just remember, there is nothing wrong with loving someone different from yourself.”

Riyo sighs. “There are so many things wrong with loving him. It’s illegal to start.”

Polina clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “Loving someone is never illegal, Ri’chka. And if you genuinely believe that, then I have failed as your mother.”

Riyo looks away, to the picture she painted of a vase of Pantoran night lilies hanging on the wall across from her bed. “I’m scared,” she barely whispers. 

Her mother pats her knee before standing. “To change your life forever, you only need thirty seconds of courage, my love. Thirty seconds of blinding courage and you will see your life bloom with the joy of your efforts.”

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, my darling Ri’chka.”

~

Riyo hesitates outside of his door. This was Royan’s room and she remembers sneaking over to talk to him about intergalactic laws and political theories late at night. 

Thirty seconds of courage. 

She knocks. 

She doubts that he is asleep, she has only seen him sleep once and he was so traumatized it was probably the only thing his soul could bear to do, lest he fall apart completely. 

“Riyo?” He asks when the door slides open. “Are you alright?” She was right, he hadn’t been asleep. He wears what appears to be sleep clothes, a loose white tunic and black pants, but his datapad is still alight at the desk. 

She nods. “I just wanted to thank you,” she whispers in the dark hall. Her parents are probably already asleep, but if she and Fox have anything in common it is that they are both night owls. 

“For?” 

“Letting me come here. I didn’t realize how much I missed them.”

He nods. “It was no problem.”

“And my father has given me the code to the farmhouse, so we should be okay to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to be ready by sun up.”

He looks so relaxed in loose clothing; she has never seen him out of his uniform and she likes how natural it seems. She especially likes the five o’clock shadow along his chin and cheeks. She lets herself wonder, for only a moment, what it would feel like against her own cheeks, against her lips. 

She clears her throat. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me… Consider this repayment for all of your kindness.”

She smirks. “I thought that I said all I wanted in return was your company and occasionally stimulating conversations?”

He returns her smirk and leans a little closer to her. “Lucky for you, then; because you're about to spend two weeks locked in a house with me.”

Her face feels hot. She had never thought of that. _Of course_ she had known that Fox was going to be her bodyguard for the next two weeks, but she hadn’t had the foresight to realize that she was about to be alone with him… in the countryside… in a modest farmhouse. 

She swallows. “Perhaps I will find it in me to let you win a game of banthashit.”

His smirk grows. “Who said I didn’t let _you_ win?”

She sputters and before she can retort, he says, “Get some sleep, Senator. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

With a nod, she returns to her room and leans against the door when it slides shut. 

She is about to be _alone_ with Fox for two entire weeks. They will be sleeping just down the hall from each other, eating every meal together. 

Her first thought is that she hopes he doesn’t tire of her. 

Her second is that she hopes she has the strength to control herself for two weeks. 

Sweet Goddess, give her strength. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I steal the card game scene from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days? Yes. Did I post this early so that I can fangirl about mando all day tomorrow? Also, yes. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, bookmarking, and subscribing! I love you all so much *smooch*


	11. Silent Serenity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I have any reader warnings, but let me know if you see any that should be noted. Riyo and Fox both talk about their brothers who were killed, though, so tread carefully through the dinner first dinner scene. 
> 
> Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors, it's a little past my bed time, but I wanted to get this posted tonight!

They stand on the landing pad of the public transport scheduled to leave for the countryside. Fox holds their bags while Riyo embraces both of her parents. They speak rapidly in Pantoran and only switch to Basic when they say their final goodbyes. Pulling away from Polina and Riyo, who are sniffling about parting once more, Ro approaches Fox. 

“May I have a word?” He asks with his heavy Pantoran accident. 

“Of course,” Fox steps aside with the older man. 

“I know Ri’chka’s gotten herself in trouble.” He goes to protest, but Ro holds up his weathered hand. “I know my daughter like I know my own hand. She is fearless and she wouldn’t step away from an important bill unless something is truly afoot. But I must ask that you look out for her. Please.” Tears well up in the man’s eyes and he quickly blinks them back. “We’ve already lost our son, I don’t think we can lose our daughter too.”

Fox nods gravely. “I won’t let anything happen to her, sir. I promise.”

Ro takes Fox’s hand and pulls him into a hug. “You’re a good man, son.” 

Fox’s chest tightens as he welcomes Ro’s embrace. “That means a lot to me, sir.”

Ro slaps his back a few times before pulling away. “You are welcome in the Chuchi home anytime, young man.”

Riyo steps beside Fox as Polina comes and pulls him into the strongest hug he has had the pleasure of experiencing. Her tiny blue frame may not look strong, but he is almost certain she is going to crack a rib. “Fo’chka, rest well and come back anytime. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

She swats his arm and he chuckles. 

“Yes, Polina.”

“I will pray that this war ends swiftly so that you and your people may know peace.”

They give a few more hugs before Fox and Riyo climb aboard the public transport. Stuffing their bags in the overhead bin, Fox glances down at Riyo. She is discreetly covering up her markings once more and drawing a golden line down her chin. He keeps standing in front of her to give her cover while she does so and when she is complete, he takes his seat next to her. 

“Thank you for that,” she mutters, pulling her shawl around her. It isn’t the normal light purple one that she wears, but instead light blue with orange stitching. 

“No problem.” He adjusts his jacket as well. She certainly had meant it when she said Pantora was cold. If he were wearing his armor and undersuit, the temperature would be negligible. But in civvies, the wind whips right through fabric and makes his hairs stand on end. 

She isn’t quick to start a conversation, instead she stares out the window longingly as they take off. 

“Are… Is everything alright?” He asks her. 

Turning back in her seat, she gives him a weak and unconvincing smile. “Yeah, I just hate saying goodbye. They’re my only family. Once they die… I’ll be the only Chuchi left.”

He nods slowly, he doesn’t know what to say to that. He is replaceable. Hell, Thire is filling in for him for the next two weeks. Just like that, one clone commander gone and another easily filling his place. 

“Visiting with them was fun at least,” Fox offers because it had been. Not many things in his life could be described as ‘fun’ but the night spent with them had been. It had also been filled with many firsts. His first time almost dying from well-seasoned food, his first time attempting to sleep in a legitimate bed - he _knows_ what blankets are and how to use them, but he had felt suffocated having something cover him in his sleep - and his first time experiencing what it might be like to be someone’s child. The only love he has ever known is that of his brothers, but being with the Chuchis made him feel loved in a way he can’t even describe. They treated him no differently than they treated their own daughter. 

She grins. “Oh, I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“You’re going to have to teach the boys how to play that card game. Maybe there will be less betting on Sabaac if you do.”

She chuckles. “I think that sounds like a date.”

With a flipping stomach, he allows himself to smile. “Good.”

~

The public transport deposits them at a small outpost where the road is not even paved. Instead, the reddish-brown soil stretches for as far as the eye can see and small shops made from various materials line the way. Fox takes in everything with wonder; he has been on three planets total in his life, all of them of varying climates and civilization, but this one seems just… normal. Pantorans stroll down the street, peering into windows, giggling at jokes the other has said. There is a group of at least 10 children playing some sort of game with a ball in the middle of the street. 

“Welcome to my hometown,” Riyo smiles. 

“It’s nice,” he says.

She nods. “Yes, well, the only unfortunate thing is that we must walk all the way to the farm.” 

Fox looks up at the crystal blue sky; there is not a cloud in sight. “I think it might be a good day for a walk,” he looks back down to her. “Do you want me to carry your bag for you?” 

A smile twists her lilac lips. “I think I can manage.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind. Lead the way,” he motions for her to start walking. 

With a grin, she takes up her bag and sets off, boots squelching in the soft soil as she does. Walking along the unpaved road, a cool breeze whispers between them and avians sing in the distance. Fox has never heard such stillness before. Even the air is lazy and calm. On Kamino, the atmosphere was always charged with shouts of brothers, of trainers, or the roar of thunder and rolling tidal waves hitting the stilts of their home. On Geonosis, where he first served, the hot, dry, air had been filled with screams of dying men and shells exploding. On Coruscant, there was never silence, not even in the barracks. 

Here, there is so _much_ silence. He can feel it seeping into the recesses of his mind, both soothing him and giving him far too much time to think. He worries about his men and who had delivered the arctic fox to Riyo and he worries about the legislation and he worries-- 

“Fox, I can hear the gears in your mind turning from here.”

He glances down. “Sorry, I’ll try to think more quietly.” 

She scoffs and adjusts her grip on her suitcase. “Should I offer a credit for your thoughts?”

“I… just have a lot on my mind," he hedges.

“Well we have quite a long walk ahead of us, if you care to share.”

He sighs. Riyo, as much as he adores her, is incessant in her attempts to break down his walls. Any other person, he would kindly tell them where to shove their proffered credit, but with Riyo he finds himself offering his thoughts, mostly, without hesitation. “Firstly, I’m concerned about my men. I’ve never left them for this long.”

“Do you trust Thire?”

“With my life. He was on Geonosis with me.”

“Then you have nothing to fear.”

He sighs. “I suppose not. Doesn’t stop me from worrying, though.”

“What about the other things that are occupying your thoughts?”

Fox is silent. He doesn’t know whether or not to bring up the fox; he doubts she has forgotten, but he doesn’t know if she wants to bring up such an event again. “Well, the possible death threat has been weighing on my mind.”

She hums. “Perhaps they will forget about me by the time I get back.”

“I’m hoping that Stone catches the son of a bitch.”

“Oh please tell me how you really feel.”

He lobs a look of incredulity at her and she snorts in response. 

“You know I’m never one to hold back,” Fox states dryly.

“And I would have it no other way. I’m certain you are the only truthful soul on Coruscant.”

That is not entirely true. Fox is an excellent liar and he has a Riyo Chuchi-sized secret locked deep within his chest. He has somehow fallen in love with her. No, he knows exactly how. In the several months that have passed since she stepped foot on Coruscant, she has weaseled her way into the cracks of his harsh facade. She showed him parts of the galaxy that he never thought he would be able to have the privilege of knowing, like a friendship that wasn’t based in kinship. Despite everything - his less than friendly demeanor, his sentiency status, his frequent doubt of _her_ \- she befriended him. And for that, he loves her in a way that he will never be able to express with mere words. 

And these feelings are just something he is going to have to learn to cope with; he is almost positive that they will not subside on their own, and he almost wishes they wouldn’t. Feeling the adrenaline rush that accompanies her proximity is the most alive he has felt since he landed on that cityscape nightmare. 

“I dunno about that,” he mutters. 

“And I already know you are worried about the clones’ rights committee, but try not to let that consume you. Our team is the best of the best. They are dedicated to making things right and anything we cannot get accomplished from here they will handle swiftly and flawlessly.”

“You have a lot of confidence in your team.”

“As do you,” she counters. 

“Fair enough,” he concedes. 

“Is there anything else troubling you?”

There is so much troubling him. 

He is afraid that he is not going to have enough self-control to survive two weeks locked away with her. But he _should_ because friendly kindness or not, he is just a _clone_ and he deserves nothing else from her. Months ago, he may have made the argument that he doesn’t even deserve that, but she believes so ardently in him that he is beginning to think maybe he does. Either way, no matter how badly he wants to hold her, kiss her, touch her he can’t because he is a _clone_ and she deserves so much more than a man bred in a tube. 

He is afraid that when they return, something terrible will happen and he will not be good enough to protect her, either. If he loses her, it will be a million times worse than when he lost Ponds. She has carved out a hole for herself in his life and he doesn’t think there is a single thing in this galaxy that could ever replace her if something were to happen. 

He quickly pushes away the dread and emptiness that comes with the thought of a galaxy without her. 

“No,” he lies. “I think that about covers it.”

“Then we will have a wonderful two week vacation.” She pauses. “Or as wonderful as one can have in the middle of nowhere.”

Nodding in agreement, he offers, “I can say one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You were right about needing a jacket.”

She guffaws. “Welcome to Pantora, my dear Fox, where the air is cold, but the people are warm.”

His first thought is that he wouldn’t mind keeping warm with her at night. His second thought is that he is an ass and his third is that this is about to be a very long two weeks. 

~

They arrive at a quaint two story home in the middle of a field covered entirely in weeds and wildflowers. Feeling invigorated from their near hour-long hike from town to the house and Fox takes stock of their surroundings. There are two barns, possibly one for livestock and the other for machinery. The house and wrap-around porch appear to be made from wood from the neighboring forest. Fox climbs the stairs of the porch - the wood groaning as he does so, which will be excellent for alerting him of intruders - and approaches the vibrant orange door. The paint is peeling in a few places, but that doesn’t lessen the eye-aching hue. 

“Do you mind if I clear the area?” he asks. 

“As my valiant bodyguard, I would expect nothing less,” she says as she types in the code. The door groans open and Fox pulls a blaster from the holster on his ankle. 

Easing himself into the main entryway, he slinks to the left, into the kitchen, around the wall into the living room, and up the stairs. The landing splits into four different rooms and he clears all of them. 

Empty. 

He lets himself breathe. Being stationed on Coruscant, he is used to threats lurking around any corner. He shouldn’t have expected the same in the middle of the countryside, but it makes him feel a little more secure about taking refuge here. 

He bounds down the stairs, where Riyo is waiting for him at the door. 

“Everything is clear,” he says. 

“Wonderful.” With both of their bags in tow, she enters the walkway and sets them down. For a moment, her hands hang limply at her sides as if she is readying herself for something, and reaches up to flip on the lights. 

In the illumination of the warm yellow lights, Fox realizes why Riyo’s favorite color is gold. Her childhood home feels like the inside of a beehive. Everything is warm and yellow and bright. The walls of the entryway are painted a neutral cream, but the living room is a faded gold and he can tell that in its prime it was probably vibrant and full of life. The hardwood floors are a shade of deep amber, even covered in such a thick layer of dust. The couches in the living room are covered in sheets and the chairs in the dining room are turned upside down and set neatly on top of the table. 

“Looks like we have some cleaning to do,” she states, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Start in the living room?” He asks. 

She nods and they begin with removing the covers from the couches. They are a deep maroon that, surprisingly, goes very well with the faded gold of the walls. They lift up the cream shag rug and carry it outside to hang over the porch railing and beat the dust out of it. Fox can’t help but chuckle as Riyo is raptured with sneezes, one right after another, each more high pitched than the last. 

With a bucket and some rags, they move back inside and begin wiping down every dusty surface. Before long, the sun has set and everything is clean. 

Wiping her brow, Riyo crashes onto the couch. 

Fox does the same. 

“I think I’m going to take a shower and then warm up some of the leftovers my mom sent with us. Does that sound okay?” She suggests, lolling her head over to the side to look at him. 

He nods. “Would you mind if I also showered?”

“No, you must spend every day positively sweaty.”

He gawks. 

She swats his arm playfully and smiles. “Yes, of course you can shower.”

“Good, because not showering sounds more like a punishment for you than me.”

She laughs. “Well either you can go first, or I can.”

“Ladies first.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

He sputters. “I would never--”

“Oh, I’m teasing,” she clarifies. “I’ll be back.” Grabbing her suitcase, she disappears up the stairs and Fox settles into the couch, closing his eyes. Just for a second. 

~

Riyo closes the door of the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. Her makeup has mostly been sweated off, thank goodness. She hates hiding her tattoos. It feels like a great act of deception, even if it is for her own safety. 

Glancing around at the peeling wallpaper, a smile creeps to her lips. She remembers when her parents had put up this ugly ivy wallpaper. They joke that it nearly ended their marriage because they couldn’t get the pattern to line up just right. 

She remembers curling her hair in this very mirror to go to the dance to which Tao, her childhood crush, had invited her. Royan had pounded on the door, claiming that he needed to pee and she was taking far too long. So many memories. 

She turns away from the mirror and starts the water. She knew that coming home would stir things up; she hasn’t been here since Royan passed. His fingerprints are everywhere. They had helped paint the walls gold with their parents and ended up playing in it more than helping. He had drawn Chuchi tattoos on her cheeks, she had done the same form and they spent the entire day pretending that adulthood was not at all like it is. There is so much more death and injustice than young Riyo could have ever possibly fathomed. 

She showers quickly, mostly because she doesn’t want to leave Fox alone with his thoughts for too long - he may worry himself to death - but also because she is painfully hungry and she knows he must be feeling the same. 

When she feels clean enough, she pulls on a pair of loose fitting pants and a matching top - both a light shade of lavender. They are her favorite pajamas, even if they are a little more elegant than a simple peasant and a little less elegant than what a Senator would wear. 

She bounds back down the stairs, preparing to inform Fox that the ‘fresher is his when she finds him kicked back - legs extended in front of him with his ankles crossed and his arms folded across his chest - fast asleep. 

Some bodyguard. 

She can’t help but smile, though. Every stress-induced crinkle that normally ages his face by ten years is gone. His face is smooth and slackened with sleep and he looks so _young_. No, he looks his age for once and not like he is carrying the entire galaxy on his shoulders. 

She doesn’t want to wake him, but as she slowly creeps forward he jolts awake, reaching for his blaster before he sees her there with her hands up. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” he grumbles, wiping a hand down his face. 

“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I was coming to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” he states, blinking the sleep from his eyes. 

The air in the room feels tense and she can only bring herself to nod in acknowledgement. “The refresher is yours… If you are ready.”

Rising to his feet, he nods and steps by her to head up the stairs.

“It’s the first door straight ahead as you go up the stairs,” she clarifies. 

“Thanks.” He picks up his bag and looks at her like he is going to say something, but decides against it and climbs up the stairs instead. Huffing a breath, she turns to the kitchen.

~

She hears the final board creak at the bottom of the stairs before she sees him. While she may be a senator with a clean record and a glowing reputation, much of her childhood had included sneaking out of the house with Royan. She knows where _every_ creaky floorboard is. 

“I warmed up some of the stew,” she says to the air in front of her, knowing that he is lurking somewhere behind her. “I don’t know--” she turns and the sight before her makes her impressively wide vocabulary vanish and her mouth fall agape. Fox is freshly showered, his dark locks are combed back and he is wearing a light blue tunic with a modest v-neck - revealing a light dusting of hair across his chest - with his sleeves rolled up - showing off his deliciously sculpted forearms - and loose-fitting, navy pants. Realizing that she is gawking, she whips back around to stir the soup that doesn’t need to be stirred. “I don’t know if you’re hungry,” she blurts. 

“Thanks. I was, uh, yeah, hungry.”

Her face blushes a dark indigo as she imagines him coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. She shakes her head and scoops them two bowls. “Would you like to sit on the patio with me?” She asks as she hands him the bowl. 

He only shrugs in response, but follows her nonetheless. It takes a few bumps of her hip, but the door eventually slides to the side and the cool evening air welcomes them. They sit down on the rusted patio furniture and eat amongst the fallen leaves and chirping crickets. 

“It’s so quiet here,” Fox muses, peering out into the darkness of their backyard. The forest goes on for several clicks. It had been Royan’s, Ilona’s, and her favorite adventuring spot. 

“I suppose it is,” she answers, following his eyes out into the darkness. She can make out the shapes of trees and a deer hiding behind the brush. “I’ve forgotten how peaceful it is.”

“I’ve never really known a quiet like this. It… leaves plenty of time for thoughts.”

She smiles sadly, turning her gaze back to her chili. “That it does.”

Silence falls between them. “Fox?”

He hums in response. 

“What was it like, growing up on Kamino?” 

“Noisy,” he answers with a smirk. 

“I can imagine, with all those boys running around.”

His smirk disappears into his impassive mask and she can tell he’s trying to hide his pain from her. “We didn’t get to run around too much. There were just a lot of us, all the time. Very little privacy and a lot of shit-talking.”

She laughs. “Oh yeah? Tell me about your brothers, I feel like I know so little about your life.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know plenty. Besides, there isn’t much to tell.”

Sure, she knows a lot about _him_ , but not about his past. She knows he takes his caf black. She knows he never sleeps. She knows he is just as deadly as he is competent. She knows he is fiercely protective. But she also knows he has an insatiable sweet tooth. And she knows that when he is upset, his shoulders scrunch up to his ears. And she knows that when he is happy his eyes twinkle, even if he does keep his lips pressed in that menacing grimace and his eyebrows furrowed. 

She knows he’s gentle. 

And she knows he gives all of himself into everything he does. 

“Sure there is. Tell me about your brothers. About growing up with them.”

He is quiet for a long while and she knows he is thinking, but worries that maybe she stirred up bad memories. “I’m technically the oldest,” he begins. His bowl is empty and he settles back in the rusty chair with a squeak. “Which means I did a lot of conniving to keep everyone out of trouble. Especially Bly, karking idiot is the biggest klutz I’ve ever seen.

“And I was always smuggling Ponds’ snacks for him, which ultimately turned into an illegal smuggling ring. They can say we are identical all they want, but Ponds’ metabolism was nearly twice as fast as the rest of ours. He could eat a whole eopie and still be hungry afterwards.” His smile is sad when he talks about Ponds, but he continues. “As for Cody and Wolffe, well, I just tried to make sure that no one fucked with them. Wolffe would kill someone without a reason and Cody would _with_ a reason. Wolffe has always had a bit of a temper and Cody is, well, _Kote_. You shouldn’t mess with him if you don’t want a wrath of righteousness brought down upon you.” He sighs. “Looking back, I wouldn’t change anything, though.”

She smiles, “Neither would I.”

“You… have a brother, right?”

“ _Had_ ,” she clarifies. “We lost Royan five years ago.”

“May I ask what happened?”

She nods. “He… He was an idealist, like Padmé, but somehow worse. He gave inflammatory speeches and inspired people to do great things.” She sucks in a deep breath. “One day, just after he had been elected to serve as Senator for the Republic, a Separatist shot him. Sniper bolt straight to the head. He was engaged to Ilona, they were going to get married the following week. We were both standing there as he addressed the crowds. Ilona was on his arm, clapping. I was standing behind. I… I helped organize his campaign as credit for my university courses. And he was smiling, he was unstoppable and then,” she stops, tears streaming down her face. “And then his brains were splattered across my shawl and Ilona was shrieking and we were being hauled away.

“So… now you know why I didn’t really want to tell my parents about my life being in danger. After Royan died, I pushed to go into politics because I felt the need to pick up where he left off. And they have supported me, after they got past their initial hesitation.”

Fox nods. “I understand,” he’s quiet for a moment. “That’s how we lost Ponds,” he whispers. 

Ponds. The death for which he blamed, possibly still blames, himself. 

He swallows back his emotions. “He was shot in the head and spaced.”

“Fox, I’m so sorry.”

He blinks a few times and looks up to her. Forcing a tentative smile, he whispers, “I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

She sighs and looks up at the sky. “I’ve never talked about Royan before… to anyone. Thank you… for listening.”

His smile is more genuine when he says, “I could say the same. Thank you.”

“It’s getting late,” she begins, mostly because she is starting to get cold so he must be suffering silently. 

“It is.” He rises, collecting her bowl and his.

“I’ll help,” she says and he doesn’t protest. They return to the kitchen and clean up what little mess was made by dinner. He washes the pan and bowls and she dries and puts them away. When they are finished, she walks up the stairs and he follows behind her. They both stand on the landing of the stairs, hesitating. 

“I guess I never told you where you can sleep,” she says. 

He hums vaguely in acknowledgement. 

“You can sleep in Royan’s room.” She brushes past him and shows him into the room. A full-sized bed is pushed against the right wall, a desk is pushed against the furthest wall underneath the window, and the left wall houses a walk-in closet. “Make yourself at home.”

He takes in everything. “The bed is so big,” he says finally. 

She thinks it to be rather small, but she has seen his bed. This must look like an entire landing pad compared to his meager excuse for a sleeping arrangement. She almost doesn’t blame him for surviving solely from tooka-naps at his desk. “I figure tomorrow we can go to the market and get some food for our stay here.”

He nods. “What time do you want to leave?”

She shrugs. “Whenever we get up, I suppose. We can go to Yana’s for breakfast and head to the market.”

“Is it a good idea for us to be in public?”

She knows what he is really asking. Is it okay for _him_ to be in public here. “We aren’t on Coruscant anymore, not everyone is a threat.”

He hums. “I’m still taking a blaster just in case.”

“I doubt I would recognize you without one.”

He smirks and leans against the door jam, looking far too comfortable. He looks relaxed and she loves the way his shoulders are not sharp angles and the way his forehead is smooth. 

“I should go,” she says, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “Good night, Fox.

The way he pushes off the doorframe tempts her to shove him inside and kiss him tirelessly. 

“Good night,” he says. The door slides shut and she disappears into her own bedroom. It is painted a light pink - frilly, but young Riyo had been so lighthearted and innocent - and has a similar set up to that of Royan’s, but with an even bigger bed. She likes to sprawl out in her sleep and as she falls back onto her plush bed, she groans. 

It is about to be a _long_ two weeks. 

~

In the morning, much to Fox’s dismay, they leave the farm to get breakfast and go to the open air market. He could die. There are so many possibilities for threats that his head is spinning; Riyo, however, seems at ease. With her face painted in non-Chuchi markings and her hair braided back, she had stomped through the waist-high weeds and up to the barn. Inside rested a faded orange speeder that, with a couple kicks and a mild curse from Riyo, started up with only a small groan. They had piled in and she drove them to Yana’s, what Fox had expected to be another Pantoran’s home is actually a quaint diner with lace curtains in the windows. 

He follows her lead into the restaurant, assessing all of the exits and windows. He doubts there are bounty hunters lurking around every corner, and the place seems relatively secure. Riyo, though, sensing his hesitation selects a table far from the windows. They ease themselves into the booth made of worn, but soft, mint-green leather. The restaurant itself smells of various spices, grease, and caf and he allows himself a moment to just _observe_ and not _assess_. Before he can even wish for a cup of caf, a cute waitress is at their table, pouring them both a cup. 

“Good morning, my name is Lola, do you both need a minute to look at the menu?”

Fox nods and Riyo hands him a menu that was tucked behind the condiments at the far end of the booth. 

“What do you recommend?” He asks Riyo after the waitress has rushed off to another table. 

“Well,” she smiles. “I am a big fan of the omelettes, but for you, I would recommend the flatcakes.”

He eyes her. “Flatcakes?”

“Basically breakfast cake. They’re very sweet, typically served with syrup and butter.”

He looks back at the menu. That does sound good, but sweets for breakfast sounds wrong. Sweets are a delicacy, not _just_ a morning meal. “Maybe I’ll just get what you get.” That feels safe. 

“I have a better idea,” she proposes. “I’ll get the omelette, you get the flatcakes and we’ll split and share.”

He sets down his menu, trading it for the caf that has been calling his name. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

~

He orders cinnamon pancakes and she orders a cheese and sausage omelette. When the dishes are set in front of them, Fox’s eyes widen comically. There is so much food, something he is clearly not used to seeing and it breaks her heart. The waitress tops off their caf and disappears, leaving them with a feast and extra plates for dividing up their bounty. 

Riyo starts first, cutting her omelette in half and sliding it over to him. He does the same with his plate and slides it over to her. They dig in at the same time and he moans softly to himself. “You have ruined GAR rations for me forever, I hope you know that,” he says. 

She smiles. “Hopefully at the end of all of this, you won’t have to eat another ration bar in your life.”

A spark twinkles in his eyes as he turns back to his food. They eat in silence mostly, but it is neither oppressive nor awkward. If anything, it is warm. She is at her favorite diner with her favorite person and afterwards she gets to go shopping. What could a better day consist of?

~

Riyo pays the bill and Fox ushers her out, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. She has never felt safer. Fox, in all his genetically perfect musculature, is like a wall between her and the rest of the world. And every time she steps ahead, she knows he is right behind her, watching her back. 

She leads them to the Farmer’s Market, a side street with rows and rows of booths selling various goods. At one point in time in her life, she would have talked to every single vendor, known all of their names and all of their children’s names. Now, she can hardly remember the faces of all the people who had loved her as one of her own. Everyone is weathered and she assumes that some have passed on and been replaced by younger relations. 

“Oy!” A man, whose name she has long since forgotten, from a potato booth waves her down. “Oy you!” He shouts in Pantoran. He is missing both of his canine teeth. 

Fox stiffens beside her, but she effortlessly loops her arm around his and approaches the vendor. “How much for a bushel of potatoes?” She asks in Basic. 

“20 credits,” he answers in Basic, but then asks in Pantoran, “Are you two from around here?”

“No,” she answers back in Pantoran, feeling Fox stiffen more beside her. She squeezes his arm in hopes of getting him to relax. “We are staying at the Chuchi Farm.”

“Oh? You know the Chuchis?”

“Yes,” she answers. 

“Damn shame what happened to them. Both their kids decided to up and leave ‘em and one even got himself killed. Damn shame, that is.”

Riyo clenches her jaw and Fox looks down at her with a furrowed brow. She can sense his concern rising as his face crinkles more and his shoulders rise up to his ears. 

“It’s Ro and Polina’s fault for encouraging those delusions of grandeur. No one can change the galaxy,” an older woman sitting next to him adds.. 

Riyo sets down the credits. “I’ll take a bushel of potatoes,” she states in Basic. 

With a nod, the old man bags up her purchase and hands it to her. “I hope to see y’all at harvest fest. May the Goddess bring you peace.”

“Same to you,” she bows slightly and continues her way through the booths. 

“Can I ask what that was about?” Fox questions. 

“Just some good, old fashioned gossip about the Chuchis and our delusions of grandeur,” Riyo grinds out. They walk in silence before she adds, “They say one person can’t change the galaxy.”

“Well,” Fox draws his eyes away from the brightly colored pastries to look down at her. “I guess it’s good you’re not alone, then.”

She grins and her heart swoops in her chest. “That _is_ reassuring.”

~

They spend the day cleaning the rest of the house and answering various correspondences. Ilona updates Riyo on the happenings of the committee and Thire updates Fox on the happenings of the Coruscant Guard, he also informs him that he will never volunteer to take Fox’s job ever again. 

“How are your men?” Riyo asks as she stirs honey into her tea. 

“Fine. Thire is upset that Chancellor Palpatine keeps calling him by name, though.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m somehow not surprised by that. I’m thinking about starting dinner, would that be alright?”

“Would you like some help?”

“I will never turn down help in the kitchen,” she smiles. 

He follows her, but lingers by the doorway leading into the deep copper kitchen. “I’ll be the first to admit, though, I, uh, only really have experience warming ration packs.”

Smiling, she pulls an onion from the basket hanging from a hook under the cabinet. She feels privileged to see him so timid. For a man who is always in charge and always knows the answer, it feels like an honor to see him a little uncertain of himself. In fact, it makes her want to kiss the blush rising to his tan cheeks. “That’s okay, I assume you are well versed with the art of the blade.”

He smirks and rolls his eyes. “If you're asking if I know how to stab someone, the answer is yes.”

Everything is just where she remembers it. Effortlessly, she finds the cutting board and knife and sets them on the counter for him. “Would you mind chopping the onion for me?”

He straightens from his position against the wall and enters the kitchen. Hesitantly, he picks up the knife, as if testing his balance and then eyes the onion. 

“It doesn’t bite.”

He huffs a laugh. “I know, I just, uh, well,” he clears his throat, “I’m not entirely certain where to begin.”

“Well first, we need to peel the skin back.” She steps close to him and can feel his warmth. If he were any other man, she would expect to smell pungent cologne, being in such proximity to him, but instead she is greeted with the faint scent of soap. It is so characteristically _Fox_ that she finds herself breathing him in. 

She sidles ever so slightly closer so that her hip is brushing against his and peels the flaky outer layer of the onion back. “Then,” she says, her voice low. “We chop it in half, just so.” She slices it down the middle, cutting clean through the root. “Then you use three fingers to hold the onion,” she shows him how to hold his hand and then picks up his hand to place over the onion. “And you slice towards the root, using the knuckle of your middle finger to guide you.” 

His fingers are long and calloused. This close, she can see where he must pick at his cuticles when his gloves are removed and his nails are trimmed close to the quick. 

In rapid succession, she imagines his hands cupping her cheeks, running through her hair, trailing down her back, palming her breasts. 

Clearing her throat, she steps back. 

He slices towards the root in confident strokes and then in the opposite direction to dice the onion. “Like this?” He asks when everything is chopped. 

“Perfect,” she rasps. 

~

He thought doing work with her was bad. The way she lounges around, the way her brow furrows when she is concentrated, the way she licks her lips and starts typing furiously, the way she chews on her lip when she takes a break to think. 

Cooking with her is so, _so_ much worse. 

He can smell the floral scent of her shampoo and he can feel warmth radiating from her. The sound of her voice directing him around the kitchen sends shivers down his spine and he can only consider himself lucky to have these small, private moments with her. A hundred different times in his life, he could have died, and there will only be hundreds more threatening to claim him. 

So now, _now_ he will cherish every second. He will commit every movement, every sound to memory. 

When the rice has finished cooking and she turns with a smile splitting her face from ear to ear, he thinks he could be happy. She had asked him, during the interview, what he would want to do after the war. 

This. This is what he would want. 

He would want to come home every night from some job that he hated, but probably not as much as he hates being a senate errand boy, and he would want to cook with her. He would want to ask her about her day, maybe she would still be a senator, who knows. No, this is his dream and in his dream she would be doing something safe, something that still helped people, though. Because what is Riyo Chuchi if not an advocate for the unfortunate? 

Anyway, he would come home and cook with her and ask her about her day. And she would give him that smile. And he would kiss her. He would kiss her and run his hands through her hair. He imagines it is indescribably soft. That one time, through his gloves, he could almost feel its silky texture through the coarse fabric. 

Then they would eat, trading stories and laughing like they do now and he would take her upstairs to bed and spend the rest of the night memorizing every curve of her body. 

That’s what he would want after the war. 

~

They eat dinner on the patio once more. It is nice. The sun is already kissing the horizon and the crickets are chirping, warming up for their night-long concert. 

“What was it like here?” Fox asks. “Growing up?”

“Oh,” Riyo lets her spoon still in her bowl while she thinks. “Terribly boring, really. I got very good at sneaking out. Even if I was just sneaking out to go to my favorite spot in the woods.”

“What would you do?” 

“In the woods? Read mostly. Sometimes drink. Ilona was always the more adventurous one. I remember this one time. We met up and she brought this bottle of liquor. Oh, Fox, it was _awful._ It tasted like straight rubbing alcohol, in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

He smirks and stirs his dinner. “Sounds nice. Not the alcohol, the spot and reading.”

“We could go there tomorrow.”

His head snaps up and his eyes flicker across her face as if he is trying to determine if she is being genuine. For a flash, she is hurt that he finds the need to do that, still, but as fast as that insecurity arrives, it dissipates. He has only known hurt his entire life and she can be patient while he learns that she would never intentionally do anything to harm him. 

She loves him far too much for that.

~

Fox tosses and turns in bed. It is too quiet here. The bed is too soft. And his mind won’t shut off. Normally, well, normally he wouldn’t sleep at all. He has grown accustomed to sleeping in a series of naps - none of which occur in a horizontal position on a double-wide bed apparently made of some sort of memory foam. His entire body is encapsulated in bed and he feels like he is suffocating. 

In one smooth motion, he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. If he is going to lay here and stare at the ceiling, he may as well be productive. Over a secure line, Thire had sent him some forms that specifically needed _Fox’s_ signature, but gave him strict instructions to focus on his and the Senator’s safety. 

What he _actually_ meant was to relax. 

Fox scoffs at the word. 

Gathering up his jacket and blaster belt- and blanket because once the sun sets on Pantora it gets kriffing _cold_ \- Fox creeps down the stairs. The floorboards in this house are exceptionally noisy and he doesn’t want to wake Riyo. He has no idea if she is a light sleeper or not, but he figures it is best to air on the side of caution. Besides, it is in his nature to be more of a silent prowler anyway. 

He slinks down the stairs and starts up the caf pot. He silently watches it brew for all of two minutes before he decides that maybe being up at this hour also warrants a cinnamon bun. Riyo had made some this afternoon and while he had tried valiantly to help her, he ultimately just served as supervisor, taste tester, and clean-up technician. 

Honestly, it wasn’t a bad gig. 

He grabs a bun out of the container just as the pot chimes that his sanity has finished brewing. Putting on his jacket and then wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, he balances his bun atop of his datapad and holds onto his cup of sanity for dear life. 

Bumping the back door open with his hip, he slips outside and welcomes the frigid night air. It stings his nose and lungs, but it feels like being alive, so he doesn’t much care. Setting down his snack and datapad, he readjusts his blanket and curls up, readying to get to work. 

It takes him all of twenty standard minutes to fill out the forms that Thire needed and then he sits back and looks up at the night sky. Serving on Coruscant, the city lights drown out the stars and on Kamino it was rare to have a cloudless night. 

The door whirls open behind him and his hand jolts to the blaster strapped to his hip. His stomach lurches until he sees Riyo, similarly bundled and gripping a cup of tea and a cinnamon bun. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” She asks as she approaches. 

He shakes his head. “No, not used to… this,” he waves his hands around to encompass everything around them. He isn’t used to having free time, or sleeping, or eating because he feels like it, or having a bed, a blanket. Or silence. The silence is eating him alive. 

“I imagine it is quite a drastic change of pace,” she sips her tea. 

“The bed is too soft and the air is too still,” he whispers. 

She smiles softly at that and he clears his throat. 

“So what has you awake this early? Or late, depending on your view.”

Her smile disappears. “It’s nothing.”

He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t, but he reaches across the table to rest his hand on hers. “Everything alright?”

“I keep having nightmares.”

His blood runs cold and it has nothing to do with the frigid temperatures. His brothers have nightmares. Hell, _he_ has nightmares. She is too good, too pure to ever have to suffer in the same mental war that he does. “About what?” He asks, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Mostly about Bibbeck… you know,” she shifts and sips her tea. “Other times about my brother. Sometimes about someone I love dying. It’s like I’m constantly reliving the past or imagining worst case scenarios.”

“I’m… so sorry. I wish I could tell you they get better in time,” he murmurs. 

“Do you have nightmares?” She questions, her voice just barely above a whisper. 

“Not usually, I never sleep.” They share a humorless and breathy laugh. “But when I do get to sleep, like here… I can’t stop hearing the screams of my battalion dying on Geonosis.”

She flips her hand over and interlaces their fingers. “Maybe… this is a good trip then… Maybe this will finally give us a chance to face our nightmares and tell them they do not control us.”

His stomach swooshes and he wants to tell her that she is his beacon of light in a stormy sea. He wants to be more like her, more positive, more kind. But he can’t find the words, or the courage to say them, so he simply squeezes her hand. 

Smiling, she squeezes back. 

~

Riyo packs them a lunch, which Fox insists on carrying, and they set out. Trudging through the rice fields makes her ache, but she brushes it off with a reminder that her father is living a happy and comfortable life in the Capitol, just as Royan would have wanted. 

The ground is soft, but then again the ground is always soft on Pantora. She has gotten so used to the duracrete of Coruscant, that she forgot what it was like to fight to keep her boot on her foot. Fox, however, does not seem to be facing similar struggles.

As they move along, she cranes her head up to bask in the warmth of the sun filtering through the deep red leaves of the Halach trees - their trunks are skinny and white with the bark peeling off in some spots. Closing her eyes, she revels in the way the golden light dances behind her eyelids. It is a perfect day for a hike and she is grateful to be away from her work datapad for a while. 

Though, she may have packed a story or two to read and perhaps a crossword as well. Fox’s eidetic memory makes him the _perfect_ crossword companion. 

Either way, the air is comfortable and the breeze is crisp and she is at peace. Avians chirp in the distance and she can see Fox perk up at the sound, maybe trying to identify the breed by its song. 

“This way.” Her voice shatters the comfortable silence between them. She leads him off the path and through the brush down to the river that is a little low for the season, which is fine. She doubts her rope would still be around anyway. Back in the day, she, Royan and Ilona would swing across the river to the otherside. This way, they can simply walk along the stones of the river bed and up to her fallen tree on the “Island”. 

Most of the rocks underfoot are smooth and mixtures of burgundy and brown as they trudge across the mostly dried bed. When she reaches the “Island” she climbs up onto a low hanging root and pulls herself up onto the deep burgundy mud of the marshland. Fox follows behind her effortlessly. She marches up to her spot and there it is. 

A truly massive fallen tree stretching over the river bed. Water around the “Island” babbles and flows, adding to the serenity of being in the middle of nowhere. 

“Here it is,” she waves her hands. “My spot.”

She has added a few things over the years. Next to the roots of the fallen tree is a wide stump and three smaller logs rolled around it. This table had hosted many meetings, card games, and study sessions. 

“Wow.” Is all he says, admiring all of its grandeur. 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful… It’s so peaceful out here.”

“Just another reason why it is my favorite spot.”

He nods and shrugs off their bag and places it on the table. “If I took you to Kamino, I would have far less exciting things to show you.”

“I heard it is a planet entirely of water.”

He nods. “It’s everywhere. As far as you can see. Nothing but water, and it rains all the damn time.”

“It must make everything terribly dreary.”

He shrugs. “Nothing about Kamino is beautiful, that much is certain.”

“I used to think the same of Pantora. I longed to see the galaxy, but after being on Coruscant for a while, I’ve come to realize how ugly it can be.”

He nods sagely. “I guess we both had a rude awakening, didn’t we?”

She nods in agreement. “I suppose a few beautiful things have come from such a rude awakening,” she smiles. 

“Like what?”

“Our friendship for starters.”

He smiles genuinely and a blush darkens his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah that is something good.”

~

When the breeze becomes cooler and the sun begins its descent, Riyo and Fox make their way back to the house. The ruddy marshland underfoot squelches with each step, yet with each step Riyo becomes more grateful for the peaceful silence between them. The only person that she has ever been able to be quiet around is Royan and Ilona. Even then, Ilona often expects certain behavior from her. 

Fox expects nothing from her. He accepts her for who and how she is and has never _once_ asked anything of her. Not once. So many times in their friendship she has asked or expected something of him, but he has never once done the same. And it is so refreshing. 

When they arrive at the house, they put away their things, check their datapads for messages and decide to start dinner. He follows her dutifully into the kitchen, requesting to help, and she once more puts him on kitchen prep, slicing onions, peppers and carrots. 

“Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” She asks. 

He shakes his head, “No, go ahead.”

She does and a smooth jazz song flows from the speakers. It has a nice beat, she knows some of the words, but is surprised to hear Fox gasp with excitement before quickly quelling himself and humming quietly under his breath. 

“You know this song?” She asks. 

A dark flush creeps up his neck. “Yeah. I, uh, listen to the radio while I fill out paperwork sometimes.” He is pointedly looking at the vegetables on the cutting board. 

“It’s a good song,” she comments. “It is also an excellent song to dance to.”

She doesn’t realize the implication of her words until they are already out of her mouth. 

The deep red continues up his neck to his cheeks. “I’ve never danced before.”

Oh what the hell. 

She already said it, she might as well follow up. No sense in chickening out now. It’s just dancing. There is no harm in two friends dancing, right? 

“W-would you like to?”

He finally looks up and gives her a wry smile, “Are you asking me to dance, Senator?”

“Perhaps.”

He sets down the knife and turns to face her. “What the hell. Sure. But if I step on your toes, it’s your own fault.”

Her toes are hardly at risk with both of them in their socks, but either way she would gladly have him step on her feet every day for the rest of her life if that meant she could stand this close to him. She clears her throat. Friends. They are _friends_. “Rest your hand here,” she draws his right hand to her waist and claims his left hand in her right. “And we just sway, twirl in a circle, you know.”

“No, not really,” he smiles, but sways nonetheless. They step slowly to the rhythm around the kitchen. “This is my favorite song,” he murmurs. 

She cranes her neck to look up at him and he glances down at her. His eyes are an endless sea of brown and they twinkle with a sort of soft happiness that warms her soul. Fox is so careful at hiding himself that she feels privileged to see him be so unguarded with her. It feels like a great honor of which she is undeserving. At the beginning, she had been so cruel. He has no reason to love her, he has no reason to treat her any better than a casual acquaintance. Yet here they are, dancing in her kitchen with only her fraying self control keeping them apart.

“Mine too,” she whispers because now it is. Now, every time she hears this song she will think of his hand, rough and calloused, in hers and how it feels to be wrapped up in his arms like this. 

He bends his head down so that his lips are against her ear. “Just don’t tell the boys.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. He is so close. If she turned her head, she could kiss his cheek and feel the dark stubble along his chin. “About your favorite song? Or that you’re actually a very good dancer?” she rasps. It is so hot in here. 

He pulls away, a smile illuminating his face. This is a _true_ Fox smile. Normally, she gets a little upturn of his lips, but this is a full, dopey grin. “Both.”

She leans closer, trying to seal the space between them that he has just opened. His hand snakes further around her back, welcoming her closeness and she opens her palm around his neck to feel his dark hair. It’s so soft, probably the only soft part of him. 

The song ends. “Thank you for listening to ZL-99, we’ll be here all night, so send in your requests. Up next a beat that is sure to get you on your feet.”

A chipper pop song comes on, but while they have quit swaying, they are both hesitant to pull away. Her eyes dart across his face, taking in every feature. The darkness of his eyes. The harsh angle of his cheekbones. The wideness of his nose. The stubble on his cheeks. The shape of his lips. He normally holds them in a thin line, but with them ever so slightly parted like this, she can see that they are full and look so, _so_ welcoming. 

Slowly pushing up onto her tiptoes, she leans forward and nearly tumbles onto her face when he suddenly isn’t there. 

His back is to her and his hands are clutching the lip of the sink. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. 

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m, uh, I’m sorry too,” she can feel her face heating. “Thanks for dancing with me; it has been a while since I’ve had a good partner.” She internally groans. Let this be known as the day that Riyo Chuchi put her foot directly into her mouth, not once, but _twice_. 

He turns around, a small ghost of a smile plays at his lips. “Thanks for teaching me.”

~

Fox lays in bed with his arms folded under his head, staring up at the ceiling. He can’t stop thinking about her. This is so bad. _So bad_. This is possibly the worst thing that has happened to him since he was decanted, and a lot of fucked up shit has happened to him. 

But is it really _that bad_? So he is in love with a Senator, no big deal. He can keep that locked up pretty tight. It’s no different than his hatred for all the other senators. 

Except had she leaned in to kiss him? He’s pretty certain she had leaned in to kiss him and he practically dropped her so he could grab the sink. If he hadn’t, he would have hauled her into the kiss. 

So much for keeping it locked up tight. 

He sighs. 

He has kissed exactly _one_ person in his entire life and he was drunk at 79’s. It was right after he lost his entire battalion, promoted to Marshal Commander and stationed on Coruscant. He… was being a little self-destructive, he can see that now, but then he had been drunk off his ass and pissed at the galaxy. 

But mostly pissed at himself. 

It had been Thire who dragged him back to headquarters and sobered him up with a pot of caf and a firm glare. 

That night, he made a vow to always put his men first, to never think about his own needs or wants, because in the end it was _them_ who mattered the most. 

He just can’t figure out why, for the first time since that night, he suddenly wants to be selfish and throw everything away. 

He thinks it might be worth it. 

~

Riyo lays in bed with her arms under her head, staring up at the ceiling. She can’t stop thinking about him. This is so bad. _So bad_. This is possibly the worst thing that has happened to her since she was elected, and she has been assaulted _and_ threatened. 

But is it really _that bad_? So she is hopelessly in love with a clone, no big deal. It’s not like it is highly illegal and could result in his death. 

Except it _could_ result in his death. 

She turns over in bed. 

How could she be so reckless? So careless? Of course he didn’t want to be kissed, he could be executed if he did. This isn’t a matter of her feelings, this is a matter of his _safety_. 

And if she truly loved him she would put that first and foremost. 

And she does. 

She loves him so much. 

She has had plenty of crushes and hooked up with plenty of men, but this feels different in every possible way. When she closes her eyes, she doesn’t dream of bedding him for a night. She dreams of a life with him, far away from their responsibilities. She dreams of him smiling more and holding her hand. She dreams of waking in the morning with him and sleeping with him at night. 

She dreams of a life where they are equals in every way. 

She _will_ make her dream a reality. She will make an equal world for him, even if she dies trying. 

Because she loves him, and sometimes what is right is not always easy. 

~

“I’m thinking we should try and pull some of the commanders for the interviews,” Fox suggests, leaning back in the kitchen chair. Both of their rooms have desks, but both of them came to the silent agreement their first day that they would work at the kitchen table. On Coruscant, they both work in tiny offices - his more so than hers - and spend too much of their time alone with just their datapad for company. So, when it came time for them to answer any correspondence from their teammates, it was a mutual agreement to sit together. 

“Why is that?” She asks, giving him her fullest attention, something by which he is still surprised. As a clone, he hardly gets the time of day, even when giving briefings, he feels overlooked and ignored. 

“Well, we each received the same training, but none of us serve in the same battalion, unlike standard batchers. Some of us serve under Jedi, others don’t. Our lifestyles are all completely different and would provide some insight.”

She nods. “I would also like to get some lower ranking troopers as well. I’ve been reading, and… command clones…” she trails off, uncertain how to finish that sentence. 

“We’re bred to be faster, stronger, smarter. That’s just the truth.”

Her brow furrows and he can tell she wants to say something - probably about his word choice - but she ultimately chooses to just nod. “If it's not too much trouble, could you organize which troopers and battalions we can pull from? We’re in the middle of the war and civilians can’t access deployment records.”

He nods. “I can do that. Also, Stone has an update on who may have threatened you. They found a fingerprint and they are running it through our database, but that can… take a few days at least.”

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing that we are holed away here then, isn’t it?”

Her wide, golden eyes capture the midafternoon light and rapture him completely. He isn’t entirely certain what she had said so he just smirks and says, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Exchanging a soft smile, they settle back into their work. The silence doesn’t seem so scary when they are together. Together, everything feels _right_. Together, he’s pretty certain they can do anything. 

Maybe even change the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS! The love and support for this fic just makes me so excited to post this every week! The next chapter also takes place on the Chuchi farm, so we aren't done with the pining yet! >:3


	12. Most Ardently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I would like to give a shout out to @lilhawkeye for proofing this chapter for me <3 besitos <33
> 
> Secondly, reader warnings!  
> 1\. Riyo has a nightmare at the beginning of the chapter depicting the incident with Bibbeck from a previous chapter. Tread carefully.  
> 2\. There be smut ahead, if you didn't see the update in rating and tags. If you would like to not read that, read up to the point where they enter the house soaking wet. You can pick up reading at "I know what you’re going to say, but leave our worries for tomorrow." After this scene there is some mentions of nudity, but nothing explicit. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

Fox doesn’t come. 

Bibbeck grabs her by the wrist, throws her up against the wall and forces her legs apart. She screams. She screams and no one answers. With one final push of uncharacteristic strength, she shoves him off and barrels back into the senate hall. The red emergency lights are blinking as she sprints down the interminable corridors, checking each door. She needs a place to hide. Something. There must be somewhere she can go. 

She hears his echoing laughter as she slaps her hand against the door to chamber E-11, the clones’ rights committee chamber. The door slides open and she falls against it. 

Safe. 

Safe, she is safe. 

Catching her breath, she walks further into the chamber and spies a dark puddle in the red aura of the emergency lights. Tentatively, she steps forward and gags. 

A dead fox lies there with its throat slit. 

Bending down, she cradles it in her arms and smooths down its dark fur. In the light it almost looks black. She blinks and suddenly it is Fox, her Fox, cradled in her lap, clutching at his slit throat. 

“Fox!” She shrieks, applying pressure to the wound. Blood seeps through her fingers, hot and dark. 

“Help me,” he chokes, blood splattering between his teeth and his dark eyes searching for salvation. 

“S-stay with me,” she looks around for something, _anything_ to stop the bleeding. 

“Why didn’t you help me?” He sputters. 

“Fox, I--” 

He falls limp in her arms and she sobs. 

~

Riyo sits bolt upright in bed, gasping for air, drenched in sweat with tears streaming down her cheeks. She tosses off her blankets and slips out of bed before she really rationalizes what she is doing. 

She knocks on his door. 

She hardly has the opportunity to question herself before the door slides open revealing one disheveled Fox. His dark hair is matted on one side and his eyes are bleary with sleep. “Riyo?” he asks, blinking rapidly. “Are you alright?”

She can’t muster the strength to speak. Instead, she tosses her arms around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. He stumbles backward a little, but catches her and wraps his arms around her. 

He’s alive. 

She’s safe. 

He’s alive. 

“Fox,” she sobs into his black, linen shirt.

“I’m here.” He rubs her back. He eases them down onto the bed and she curls up beside him, not ready to let go. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks her, gently rubbing his hand up and down her spine. 

“Nightmare,” she breathes, clinging to him like he could vanish into the aether should she loosen her grip. 

“About?”

“Bibbeck, failing at this legislation… you… you died in my arms. Your throat had been slit like… like--” 

It is all so clear in her mind. It is seared to the back of her eyelids. Every time she closes her eyes she sees him dying, feels the warmth of his blood between her fingers. 

“I’m here.” He holds her closer. “I’m here.”

“Hold me,” she pleads, tears still streaming down her face. 

“I can do that,” he murmurs. Gently, like he has had any experience dealing with a crying woman, he nudges her to lay down. She curls up on her side with her back facing the door and he folds himself around her, keeping her close against his chest. “Get some sleep, Ri’ka. I’ll be here.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” she mutters into his chest. He is so warm. The terror that plagued her mind just moments ago begins to fade away as his steady presence soothes her soul. 

He rests his cheek on top of her head and she can feel the gentle pull of his stubble in her hair. “Me too… me too.”

She drifts back asleep, feeling safe. 

~

The sun filters through the window and she goes to pull Fox closer only to realize he is gone. “Fox?” She calls, sitting up. It’s irrational, she knows, but upon his absence, her mind takes a dark turn. The sheets between her fingers take on a sanguine texture and she swallows down the bile rising in her throat. “Fox?”

The landing floorboard creaks and she eyes his blasters holstered in his belt draped over the back of his chair. She could surely get to them in time, but she has never used a service pistol before, only her father’s hunting rifle. As the footfalls draw nearer, she makes her decision and lunges for the blaster on his belt. She unholsters it and whirls around, leveling it center mass at Fox. 

“Riyo, for fuck’s sake,” he jolts, nearly dropping the two mugs. 

“Fox,” she breathes. 

His eyes do not stray from the blaster. “Care to put that away or are you finally going to fulfill my wildest fantasy?” 

She glares at him, but turns and holsters the weapon once more. Collapsing down on his bed, she buries her head in her hands. 

“Want to talk about it?” He asks, offering her a cup of tea. 

She shakes her head, but accepts the proffered cup. Taking a sip, a smile creeps to her lips. He has added honey, just like she likes it. Of course, _he_ would notice how she prefers her tea. 

He eases himself down next to her on the bed. “Sometimes… talking about it helps,” he says to his own cup. 

“I’m terrified,” she murmurs, barely audible. 

“Of?”

“Everything. Failing. Getting you or your brothers hurt in my quest to gain your freedom.”

He lets out a low whistle and sits back. “Well, do you trust your team?”

She nods. “They’re the best of the best.”

“As for our safety. Don’t worry about it. We’ve died for less righteous reasons.”

“That doesn’t help!” She cries and his eyes widen comically. 

“No, I mean, fuck,” he wipes a hand down his face. “I’m no good at this. I mean that… well… I don’t think anything would happen. But…” He clears his throat. “I think that any of the men would gladly sacrifice themselves if it meant that everyone else would go free. Myself included.”

She sighs. “I just hope no one has to be sacrificed.”

He opens his mouth and she cuts him off. 

“Don’t say that you’re expendable.” Her heart aches. Unable to look him in the eyes, she studies the pale green mug resting between her hands. “Because you’re not. Not to me.” 

Slowly, cautiously, his hand finds hers and she welcomes his touch. His hands are rough and grounding, but at the same time warm and gentle. She knows these hands can take a life, but they also hold her at night and card through her hair to ease her troubles. Pulling her eyes from their overlapping fingers, she musters the courage to look at _him_. He is smiling softly, something meant to reassure her, with just one edge of his lips turned upward.

 _Stars_ , she wants to lean forward and claim his mouth with her own. 

But she can’t. 

She won’t. 

She has vowed to make sure everyone lives through this ordeal, him included. Carefully boxing up her feelings and storing them somewhere safe deep within her mind, she rises. “How about some proper breakfast?”

~

“Let’s make flatcakes” she chirps, gathering the supplies and sitting them on the yellow tile counter. 

“Sounds fine to me,” he shrugs. 

“Excellent,” she hands him the bowl and a piece of flimsi. “Follow this recipe while I start the eggs.”

He sputters. “W-what? You want me to?” 

“Fox, you are in charge of hundreds of men _and_ the security of every being on Coruscant.”

“Don’t remind me,” he swallows. 

“I’m sure you can handle mixing together some ingredients.”

He nods. “Yeah, I can. Definitely. I can do this.”

She grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Fox stares at the small piece of flimsi, deciphering the crooked cursive of, he assumes, her mother. Slowly, and a little clumsily, he adds all the ingredients into the bowl and mixes it together. “Okay,” he says. “Now… what?” 

“Pour about a spoonful onto the griddle, like so,” she pours one and looks at him. “Oh, you have a little,” she points to his cheek and he feels his face flush. “May I?” She asks. 

He nods because with her standing so close, his throat is suddenly too dry to squawk in approval, let alone verbally consent to anything. Gently, far too gently for someone so battle-hardened as he deserves to be touched, she reaches up and swipes away the flour on his cheekbone. “Thanks,” he rasps. He’s pretty sure his voice cracked, but he’s just going to ignore that bit. 

Her eyes flick to his lips and she rubs her thumb across his cheek once more. Maybe for good measure? Maybe because she likes it?

Oh fuck. 

Does she?

She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. 

“No problem.” She sounds as out of breath as he feels. 

Could she?

~

Riyo sits, folded up on the couch, cocooned in quilts of varying colors. Purple seems to be the most popular choice, but there is also one made of varying shades of blue and another made of vibrant magenta and orange. Fox, on the other hand, is curled up on the smaller couch in a golden quit. It is her favorite and she had insisted that he take it. 

“I think…” she chews her bottom lip. “I think… this is everything.”

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from his own report. The fingerprint had belonged to a bounty hunter, who Puck and his boys are attempting to locate in the labyrinth of Coruscant’s lower levels. 

“We have everyone scheduled for their interviews once we get back. Bly and his battalion will be last due to their deployment. Wolffe and his men will be first, seeing as General Koon is currently shoreside for a while to deal with council matters. Then we have your men. Once we complete all the testing, we will be able to finish up the draft of the legislation. Then, it will be over.”

“Over?” He asks. 

She nods, chewing her lip in that maddening way. “I’m doing my best to be optimistic. And I truly think that once we show the results, that the Senate will have no choice but to agree… but stranger things have happened. This won’t be the first legislation based in peace to die upon the senate floor.”

Fox sucks in a deep breath. “I have faith.”

“In?”

“You. The committee. You won’t do wrong by us.”

She smiles and his heart lurches in his chest. “That means more than you could ever know.”

~

She shoots bolt upright in bed, panting. It had been the same. Bibbeck attacking her, chasing her through the Senate halls and Fox dying in her arms. She sprints across the hall, begging for the only thing that can anchor her back to reality, and knocks on his door. 

He had been awake. The light on his desk is still on and his hair is not at all matted. “Everything okay?” He asks, his voice not even tinged with sleep. 

She tosses her arms around him again, and this time he catches her effortlessly, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close. 

“Nightmare?” He whispers. 

She nods. 

“Come on, lay down.”

Tears well in her eyes at the tenderness in his voice. “Fox, I’m so scared,” she murmurs to his chest when he lays down next to her. 

He pulls the quilt up to her chin and tucks her in. “There’s nothing to be scared of right now, I’m here.”

She nestles closer, and his arm drapes over her, his fingers running gently through her hair. 

“I’m here,” he murmurs to the top of her head. 

~

The sun filters through the sheer curtains and Fox blinks slowly, languidly awake. His arm is tingling and when he looks down, he sees Riyo curled up in the crook of his shoulder. 

His heart drops. 

There is one thing about sharing a space in the dark. Night time is terrifying. But there is something completely different about them sharing a bed in the light. It feels more intimate. More real. 

Why is he doing this to himself?

She is an adult, she can wake from her nightmares on her own. 

But when she comes to him, late at night with her eyes as wide as the plates from which they eat, he can hardly protest. He just… He loves her and if this is one, tiny piece of comfort that he can give her, why shouldn’t he?

She shifts and he looks down in a panic. He should get up, he should make himself sparse. 

That is when he notices that not only is her head on his shoulder, but her hand is splayed across his chest and her leg draped over his. There is no disappearing, so he may as well own it. 

“Good morning,” he whispers to her. 

She jolts awake. 

Okay, probably a poor idea on his part. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” He can’t think for a single thing for which he is actually sorry. 

“Fox,” she breathes, blinking up at him before realizing her position and leaping to the other side of the bed. “I’m so sorry, that… that was probably inappropriate.”

“I didn’t mind. You were keeping me warm.”

Stupid, Fox. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Blushing, she smiles. “Likewise.”

He swallows. “So what’s on the agenda today?”

She falls back on her back and he props himself up on his elbow next to her, resting his head in his hand. “Well, perhaps we could go hiking once more. Or, if you're interested maybe we could clean up the fields a little.”

“A little manual labor does sound nice.”

“I quite agree,” she says with a smile before tossing the blankets off of her and onto him and leaping out of bed.

Not even bothering to grab his blasters, he follows her down the steps. 

~

Standing, she wipes sweat from her brow and looks up at the crisp blue sky. It is almost noon, if her ability to tell time by the sun in the sky is still accurate. 

“It’s about noon,” Fox calls, straightening himself as well. They each took a garden and so far they are about halfway finished. 

“I know,” she replies and glances down at her hands. Fox is going to be so upset. She had just… gotten used to the swing of the weeder and before she knew it, blisters had formed and ruptured, leaving her hands stinging. She had tried to wrap the fabric of her sleeves down and around her hands, but there is no hiding the evidence. 

Not from him, anyway. 

“Want to take a break?” He asks. 

“I think that sounds nice,” she tosses the weeder aside and stuffs her hands in her pockets. They both exit the garden and meet in the center path, leading up to the back of the house. 

“Feels good to have done something with my hands other than sign my number,” he chuckles breathily. 

“I know the feeling. These days all I do is hole up in my office and read the fine print of galactic law.” She moves to step up on the patio and trips. She barely gets her hands out of her pockets when Fox catches her. 

“Woah, careful.”

She _feels_ him notice her hands. 

He grabs both of her wrists and flips her hands over. “Riyo,” he hisses. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I… didn’t feel it.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” he ushers her in and gently pushes her down on the couch. “Medkit?”

“Under the sink,” she sighs. 

That pesky line between his brows hasn’t made itself known in days, but there it is, making him look disgruntled and stressed all over again. They have been here for a week and he has been so relaxed, until now. She has seen him smile more and, as time has progressed, his shoulders have loosened and he has been less jumpy. As they sit and work at the kitchen table, he no longer flinches at every creak of the house settling nor every bristle of the wind against the shudders. 

He returns and sits on the coffee table, spreading his legs to trap her between them. “Gimme your hands,” he instructs. She does and he inspects the injuries. “Nothing a little bacta won’t fix,” he mumbles, mostly to himself she thinks. 

He rummages through the medkit and pulls out rubbing alcohol, bacta, gauze and tape. “This is going to sting,” he murmurs, dabbing an alcohol-soaked gauze on her bloody hands. 

Hissing, she flinches away from the pad. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, rubbing an arch on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“‘S okay,” she murmurs and instead focuses on the warmth of his hands around hers. 

He works silently, cleaning the wound thoroughly before carefully squeezing bacta onto her hand and wrapping it tightly in gauze. When has finished one hand, he says, “Give it a squeeze, how does it feel?”

She moves her hand around and makes a fist. “It feels good.”

He nods. “Good, I only had a couple field medicine classes. Nice to know I’m not rusty.”

She scoffs. “Fox, I’m fairly certain you are good at everything.”

“Except maybe dancing,” he mutters, eyes focused on his work. 

“Practice makes perfect,” she smiles and his head snaps up to her. 

“I thought you would have had enough of my dancing.”

His hands are resting around hers. The dressings are complete, but neither of them move. She leans forward, “I could never tire of anything you do.”

He matches her movement. “That’s a bold statement.”

“I’ve never been one to hold back.”

He blinks and pulls away. “I think I’m gonna hit the showers,” he says. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll take care of lunch when I’m done.”

“Yessir.” She gives him a half-hearted salute, but that pesky crinkle has taken up residence once more and his lips are too taught to crack a smile. 

~

With as much self-control as he can muster, he closes the bathroom door and grabs the sink with both hands. 

What in the _hell_ is he doing?

This is so bad. 

He is so absolutely, positively _fucked._

He stares at his reflection and sucks in deep breaths. This woman… this woman is about to be the death of him. He can’t handle it. The worst part is the way she says those things, like she means it. And the way her lips pout ever so slightly when she says something like that, like she is begging him to kiss her. The way she leans forward, in his space so that he can smell her floral shampoo and the tinge of a hard day’s work. 

_Fuck_. 

He presses his forehead to the mirror and sucks in a deep breath. Just one more week. He can do this. 

Why did he ever fucking agree to do this?  
Stripping like his clothes are on fire, he turns water all the way on cold and forces himself not to think of how her hands feel in his, or how soft her hair is, or what it would be like to feel her lips on his skin. 

~

“Are you sure you have this under control?” She asks, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Positive,” he says as he puts a pan on the stove top and investigates how to turn it on. He’s a quick study, though, and puts it on medium heat without much thought. “I told you, I consider myself a professional at reheating rations. How could leftover soup be any different?”

With a smirk tugging at her lips, she nods. He seems so at home and for a moment she allows herself to day dream of this being _their_ home. She adores him, in his comfortable civilian clothes and his socked feet. She hasn’t seen him wear his blaster belt in days and she can almost imagine what he would look like during peacetime. 

In peacetime, when he wouldn’t be owned by the Republic - she gags at the thought of him being _owned_. She would want to live in a quiet home with him. She wouldn’t want him to work, absolutely not. He has spent every day of his short life enslaved, working until he collapses from exhaustion. She would want him to spend every day of the rest of his life learning the beauty of the galaxy he has spent a lifetime protecting. 

And in the evenings, she would love him endlessly. She would kiss every scar - while she hasn’t seen any, she knows he has them - and remind him of just how important he is to her. 

“Here,” he hands her a bowl of piping hot soup, shocking her from her reverie. She looks from the bowl to his smirk and back to the bowl before accepting. 

“Thank you,” she manages to squeak. Her throat has gone dry at the mental images of her hands roaming over his body. 

“Told you I had it under control.”

She can only smile in response as they move to eat on the couches. 

~

He can’t sleep. It’s about one in the morning and he is just about to go get a cup of caf to keep him company when there is a soft knock on the door. He is up in a flash and Riyo tosses her arms around him. It has been the same dance for the past four nights. Around this time in the morning she finds him and he is all too willing to share his bed with her. She sniffles for a little while, but ultimately relaxes into his embrace and falls asleep within moments. 

They curl up in bed, as part of their routine, and while she relaxes into his chest, she turns her head up so that she can speak. “Fox?”

He hums in acknowledgement, unable to speak. She’s so close and he is fighting the urge to kiss her valiantly. 

“Thank you, for everything,” she whispers. 

He squeezes her closer so that he doesn’t say something stupid, like three words he should never, ever utter to a nat-born. “Get some sleep,” he says instead. 

~

“This is a good song,” Fox says as he chops vegetables for their stew. 

“It is,” Riyo agrees as she kneads the dough for their pita bread. 

The song has a nice, steady rhythm and an airy melody played by what sounds like some sort of string instrument. “How would one dance to this song if they wanted to?” 

She takes her eyes off of the bowl of dough and peers at him. He keeps his eyes trained on his vegetables as he slowly slides his knife through them. “Well I could show you,” she offers. 

He looks at her and smirks slightly. “If you're offering?”

She wipes her hands on her apron and squares up with Fox. They find their frame easily and she shows him the step. “So this has a waltz-like beat. You step forward, then to the side, then backward and we just go in a square like that.”

“Seems easy enough,” he says, guiding her effortlessly across the floral tile. 

“Oh it is, until people start adding spins or dips or what have you. I think that is one of my least favorite parts of being a woman at formal balls. I have been dropped more times than I care to admit when a man attempts a dip.” She sighs and Fox chuckles. “You laugh, but it does a number on a girl’s confidence.” 

“You’re not even heavy,” he states. 

“You say that, but I have experience that proves otherwise,” she jokes as the song comes to a flourishing end. 

The hand on her hip finds its way up her back and he dips her with absolute perfection. His eyes find hers and her breath catches. Maybe this is it; this is finally the moment where he is going to kiss her. And oh how she wants him to. 

“I think you just need to find stronger men to dance with,” he clarifies and brings her back upright. 

She feels herself blush and she can hardly contain the giggles that tumble from her lips. He chuckles too, his lips turned up into a full smile. 

She loves his soft chuckle. She loves his smile, that rare, beautiful sight. 

She loves him. Oh, does she love him. 

~

He can’t sleep again, but he’s starting to think this isn’t unusual. Without Riyo’s steady breathing beside him, sleep seems too distant. It is almost two thirty in the morning, which means Riyo is probably going to sleep through the night, thank goodness. While he will miss her soft warmth, he would rather her not wake up terrified. 

So, he creeps down the stairs, trying not to cause too much creaking and pours himself a cup of tea. He will miss this stuff when he gets back to Coruscant. While caf is the only reason he is still alive, drinking tea at night is calming. 

He also grabs a slice of pita bread and sits down at the table with his datapad. He makes it through approximately two messages when he hears a small voice from upstairs, “Fox?”

“I’m down here,” he says. 

She slips down the stairs, avoiding all the creaky steps and pads over to him. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh,” she says. “Well, come on. Come to bed,” she holds out her hand. She is wearing her favorite pajamas - the lavender ones. 

Without so much as a second thought he takes her hand and lets her guide him upstairs. To his surprise, she leads him to her room and gives him a gentle shove towards the bed. Her room is so much different than his. Small pictures from years ago are tacked up to the walls along with _several_ paintings of flowers. He can’t see the color of the walls in this light, but they are light and airy. 

“Lay down,” she murmurs. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He climbs into her bed and is immediately enveloped in _her_. Her smell, that floral scent of her shampoo, is everywhere and he finds himself breathing her in. 

She lays down on her back next to him and pulls his head onto her chest. “I figured I could return the favor,” she murmurs. 

His body is easily twice the size of her in every way. He must be crushing her, but when her hand finds his hair, he is rendered immobile. He is putty in her hands. She could ask anything of him, in this moment, and he would agree without hesitation. 

“Get some sleep,” she murmurs, carding her fingers through his locks. 

He does.

~ 

“So tonight is the harvest festival,” she says as she folds her hair into a bun on each side of her head in the mirror. He is sprawled out across her bed, flipping through her datapad with pictures. She has so many pictures, so many happy memories with friends. She has so many of those too, and they all look so _different_. He can hardly imagine having countless friends of different backgrounds, different faces. 

“What time did you want to leave?” He asks as he swipes. In this picture, her hair is short and choppy and she stands with her arms around two other young women - one he thinks might be Ilona - grinning at the camera. 

With a huff she pulls out her buns and decides on a simple braid. 

“What was wrong with what you had?”

“I forgot I can’t wear my hairpiece,” she sighs. “It’s a Chuchi heirloom. I was thinking we could leave around 1700? We can get food at the festival, play a few games, perhaps ride a few rides and come home,” she says. “Does that sound okay to you?” 

He watches her as she braids her hair with nimble fingers and ties it off. “I think that sounds fine."

"I'm so excited for Harvest Festival," she smiles into the mirror. "It's been so long since I've been able to go."

"You'll be surprised to know that I've never been to a festival."

"Shocked," she quips. "I would tell you to expect a riveting cultural experience, but it will most likely just be people laughing and little kids crying.”

She giggles and turns around when she sees his appalled expression. “Kids crying?” He asks. 

“Festival games are very cutthroat,” she grins. “But I can promise the food will be delectable.” 

“Then I guess that is all that matters.”

~

Fox stands at the foot of the stairs patiently awaiting Riyo. He _barely_ knows how to dress himself in civvies so it takes him ten standard minutes, tops, to get ready. He decided on plain black pants, a long-sleeved grey tunic, his long black jacket - that he must admit, does look nice on him - and the black knit hat that Polina gave him. He had felt bad receiving a gift that he couldn’t keep, but she had ordered him to take it, citing the cold temperatures and his lack of headwear made _this_ particular hat a necessity. Riyo had joked that because it was knitted with love, it would be infinitely warmer than any other hat. 

So far, that seems about accurate. 

Fox moves to check his chrono and realizes, not for the first time, that he isn’t wearing one. Hasn’t been wearing one since they arrived here, but old habits die hard. 

Riyo bounds down the stairs, and Fox is rendered speechless. She is wearing a sea green shawl embroidered with ivory flowers and an ivory shirt underneath. Her hair is curled and pinned to the side with a golden crescent moon pin. Her pants are the same color as her shawl and flare at the knee, accentuating her hourglass frame. 

“Where’s your blaster?” She asks, eyeing his beltless hips. 

He pulls back his jacket, “Shoulder holster.”

She nods, but her eyes don’t stray from his form. 

He swallows. “You- you look good,” he manages and if not for years of training his face to stay expressionless he would have winced at his own delivery. Why? Why must he constantly stick his foot in his mouth? 

She grins, “You don’t look half-bad yourself. I love the hat.” 

He blushes. “Thanks, you should probably wear one too.”

She scoffs. “I relish this time of year. We Pantorans are built for the cold, we run hot.” 

“Clones run hot too, but we are normally in temperature controlled gear so...” he trails off with a shrug. He doesn’t really know where he was going with that information, anyway. It feels weird, talking about his gear. He almost forgot that he is a clone, living here with her has made him feel human. His life as a commander feels so far away. 

And he dreads thinking about returning. 

While he loves his men and he misses all of his brothers, he does _not_ miss the headache of Coruscant. Nor does he miss the political web that he has to tiptoe around. 

Riyo wraps her arm around his and he is brought back to reality. “Shall we fetch our speeder?” 

“Of course, m’lady,” he quips and is rewarded with a smile. 

~

The air is simultaneously warm and cold. Along the red-dirt road of town, several vendors have set up shop, cooking over open flames and offering their wares. Strings of lights are draped between the booths and children dart between the legs of adults, shouting about games and rides. The sun is lowering in the sky, casting the festival in an orange glow and Fox is in awe. He has never seen so many happy people. 

Riyo keeps a firm arm on his and when they have to weave their way through a crowd, her hand slips to his and they maneuver easily, hand in hand. “Where are we going?” He asks. She seems very set on her mission. 

“I figured we could start with food and I know the perfect place to start.”

“Where’s that?”

“Remember the Pantoran Pita I buy on Coruscant?”

He practically drools at the thought. “Yeah.”

“There is a vendor… He makes the _best_ Pita. When we were younger, my brother and I used to hang out with his granddaughter. I hope he still has his booth.” 

Fox follows her excitedly, taking in all of their surroundings. He has never seen such a peaceful time. Looking at everyone laughing, eating, eyeing various goods, he can hardly tell that there is a war going on in the galaxy. Sweet spices and laughter fill the air and with a steady inhale he lets himself forget the war too, just for tonight. 

~

Riyo loves the way Fox’s hand feels in hers as she pulls him up to the vendor. Just as she thought, Old Man Harvish still owns his town-renowned Pita Booth. She steps in line and Fox goes with her. He is eyeing everything around them and she remains silent, overjoyed just to watch him experience this for the first time. 

“After this, we should see what games and rides they have this year,” she suggests, bringing his attention down to her. 

“Sounds like fun,” he smiles. The tip of his nose is just a little red from the cold and she wouldn’t mind kissing it to make it warm. 

“I will have you know, I’m terribly competitive.”

“Oh I already know that,” he grins, “but so am I.” 

The line creeps forward and she returns his smile. Butterflies swirling in her stomach, she steps closer to him and lets her fingers graze his. 

To her surprise, his pinky wraps around hers and her heart swooshes with excitement. It is not very often that he initiates touching her, and when he does, it feels so intentional. It makes her feel important. 

It makes her feel loved. 

~

“Over here,” she jerks her head to a massive tree, its red leaves providing a natural shelter for them to eat. “So,” she says as they claim their spot. “Part of the fun of eating at the festival is that you get to eat with your fingers and standing up.”

He snorts. “You just described how I eat every meal.”

“Well for us stuffy Senators, this is almost heresy.” She holds out her pita wrapped in thick wax paper to him. “Cheers.” 

He taps his pita to hers. “Cheers.” He takes a bite and the juice oozes over his fingers. 

“Oh sweet goddess,” Riyo moans and sums up, pretty completely, his thoughts. 

This is amazing. The juiciest, most tender, most _flavorful_ anything he has ever had the pleasure of experiencing. “This is… so good,” he mumbles around his bite. 

She hums and takes another bite, a little bit of sauce getting over her chin. He grabs a napkin - one of several that she had stuffed in his coat pocket - and says, “You got a little something.”

“Oh,” she tilts her face for him to wipe it away and his chest flutters. 

Gently, oh so gently, he blots the sauce away for her. 

“Thanks,” she breathes. 

“No problem,” he croaks. 

~

She called it a ‘Ferris Wheel’. He would consider it a ‘Death Wheel’. They stand in line for their chance to ride and Fox is highly skeptical. This thing is made of only cables and durasteel rods and is held together by some _very_ shoddy looking welds. 

He looks down at her, but she is watching the wheel with great excitement. “Are you sure about this?” He asks. 

“Of course! This has always been my favorite, when you are up at the very top you can see everything. It’s stunning.”

 _She’s_ stunning. Even with the make-up covering her Chuchi markings, everything about her is effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair ripples down her shoulders in soft waves and every time she smiles, her eyes twinkle with a kind of unbridled joy he hasn’t seen since she was a rookie on Coruscant. 

“You aren’t scared of heights are you?” She prods, a playful smirk twisting her lips. 

He scoffs. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Oh?” She steps closer. 

That was a very, very poor thing to say. He is scared of many things. One of them being how he feels, right now, with her nearly pressed to his chest as she challenges him. 

“Nope,” he croaks. 

“I imagine there is at least one… thing you’re scared of,” she whispers. 

He is terrified of _her_. Sweet Goddess, he can hardly control himself. She has a power over him that no one else has and he thinks she is beginning to notice. 

Would it be so bad? If he kissed her… just once? 

Yes. Yes it would be, because he doesn’t think he could stop at just one. 

~

They climb into the pod of the Ferris Wheel. It is rickety and about as nightmarish as Fox had imagined it being from the ground. Riyo, on the other hand, is practically giggling with excitement. She sits down next to him, even though he had _insisted_ that she sit on the other side for _balance_. 

“I thought you weren’t scared of anything?” She smirks devilishly. 

“I’m just suggesting that we increase our chances of no accidents happening while we are suspended at a height that would kill us if we fell.” 

“Fox,” she says, so low and smooth that his jaw snaps shut audibly. 

“Do you trust me?” She murmurs. 

“With my life.”

“I _promise_ everything is going to be fine. These things are rickety and old, sure, but they are not life threatening in any way. If it would make you feel better, I’ll move to the other side.” 

“No, no. It’s okay, I trust you,” he murmurs. 

Her hand slides closer to his and he lets himself be foolish for the second time this evening. He moves his hand to match hers and lays the tips of his fingers over the tips of hers. She grins and his heart flutters. 

The ride lurches and suddenly they are moving upward. The wind is colder up this high and Riyo scooches closer to him. Out of instinct or out of desire - he isn’t certain which - he puts his arm around her and she settles in against his shoulder as they slowly ascend. 

She was right, really. 

They are at the top just in time to watch the sun say its parting goodbye to the sky, catching the horizon aflame with its deep orange glow and illuminating the bright crimson of the trees. It’s amazing. He has flown several times and is definitely not scared of heights - even though he has fallen enough during foot chases to warrant a small dose of acrophobia - but not once has he had a tranquil moment to just _look_ at a horizon and see it for all its glory. Even with the shelf of ominous clouds looming in the northern part of the sky, he has never seen anything so spectacularly indescribable. 

“Wow,” he mutters, watching as avians soar and the night stars begin to peak through the fading twilight. 

“I’m so grateful for this moon being my home,” Riyo murmurs. “It is by far the most beautiful place I have been.”

“Me too,” he murmurs. 

She curls closer to him and he relishes in it. The smell of her shampoo, the softness of her body pressed against his. 

“And I’m grateful you were able to come here with me,” she whispers. 

“Me too,” he tucks his chin on top of her head and tries not to dread the end of their week rapidly approaching. 

~

They walk through the endless game booths, and she carefully watches Fox react to each one. There are so many and she imagines he is feeling a tad overwhelmed, how could he not? This is the first time in his life he has ever experienced what peace is like. Pantora, while it has been affected deeply by the war - at least in a legislative manner - it hasn’t seen any of the hardship. Her people are not on the front lines, and the Separatists have no interest in their meager exports or position within the outer rim. 

Fox slows to a stop as he watches two teenage boys - they don’t even have their clan tattoos yet - shoot corks at cans. It’s fun; Riyo considers herself quite the champion at this game, her father trained her well how to use a rifle, but Fox looks baffled. 

“What’re they doing?” He asks. Neither of the boys have hit a can yet, but they are both laughing. 

“Well they’re shooting cans,” she explains. “The more cans you hit the bigger the prize you win.”

He nods slowly. “People… people shoot things for fun?” He looks down at her, with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Oh. 

_Oh_. 

He has never… Has he ever fired a blaster that didn’t claim the life of its target? 

“I bet I can hit more cans than you can,” she smiles, even though her heart is breaking. She is desperate to give him a happy memory to associate with the sureness of a blaster in his hand. He has only known war. Has been trained to fight and lose and then keep fighting. 

How can one man still love so tenderly after only experiencing such grief? Such pain? 

He rolls his eyes. “That’s a stupid bet to make,” he says. 

“I’m fairly confident in myself,” she quips and turns to the booth worker. In Pantoran, she asks for two rounds and the woman sets ten cork bolts on the table. “Come on,” she motions to the blaster sitting on the counter. 

With an eyebrow arched, Fox steps up. “By all means, ladies first.” 

She rolls her eyes and loads one of the cork pieces into the rifle. Shouldering it, she takes aim and hits the first can. She misses the next three, but finishes strong with one more hit. 

She sets the blaster down. “I’m a little rusty.” 

The lady tells Riyo to pick her prize and she picks a small stuffed fox and slips it into her Fox’s coat pocket. Her outfit had been fashionable, of course, but as per usual had no convenient places to put things. “Your turn,” she says. 

He steps up to the blaster and picks it up. “This thing is really light,” he comments, mostly under his breath. 

“Well, it uses air to shoot cork, so I’d imagine it wouldn’t be too heavy.” 

He loads the first cork bolt and takes aim. 

Dead center. 

Without even a second of hesitation, he reloads and fires, hitting all five cans effortlessly. The attendant looks just as impressed as Riyo and tells him in heavily accented Basic to pick his prize. He eyes his options and smirks deviously. 

Oh. 

He has spotted the crown of flowers and ribbons. 

“I’ll take that right there,” he points at the gaudy tiara. 

The lady, also smirking, hands it to Fox and tells them to have a nice evening. 

“Well, that is quite an interesting choice of wardrobe,” Riyo says. 

“Nope,” he sets it on her head. “This is for you. Loser’s rights.”

“Oh just rub it in why don’t you.”

“Told you it was a stupid bet.”

She adjusts her tiara and looks down her nose at him. She harrumphs in jest and he laughs. Not just a chuckle, but a _laugh_. Deep and joyous with his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched. 

Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid bet. 

~

“Oh Fox!” She grabs his hand and drags him towards another booth. “We have to get this! It’s a harvest festival staple!” 

“What is it?” He asks, following her without too many questions. She doesn’t mind his questions, anyhow. Any time he asks ‘what’ or ‘why’ she is all too pleased to answer him. 

“Rice pudding. My father would harvest rice and give it to vendors to make rice pudding. Oh my _stars,_ it’s so good.” 

“Okay.” 

“Would you mind splitting with me?” She asks. Mostly because she couldn’t possibly eat an entire cup by herself. 

“Sure.”

She orders for them and receives the small cup of rice pudding along with two spoons. Stepping to the side, she offers him a spoon. “What should we toast to?” She asks him, scooping up some of the pudding. 

“To good food?”

“And better company,” she smiles, tapping her spoon against his. They share a smirk and take their bites. The warm comfort of a Pantoran staple melts across her tongue. The consistency is smooth, but thick and tasting of warm milk, cinnamon and vanilla. 

“Riyo,” he says seriously. 

“What? It is okay? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.”

“I think, apart from the cinnamon buns you make, that this is the best thing I have ever eaten,” he digs his spoon in for another bite. 

She beams. “Really?”

He nods gravely. “As a food connoisseur of late, yes.”

“Well, then I must propose a new toast.”

He arches an eyebrow. 

“To finding more foods to add to your list of favorites.”

They tap spoons once more. 

“And to finding them with my best friend.”

She beams and her stomach swirls. She wants to kiss him. What is the harm of one kiss? Especially here, where they are no one, but Fox and Riyo. They are not Commander or Senator and not a soul has given them a sideways glance since they arrived. Everyone has accepted him as her friend, maybe even her lover and she wouldn’t even argue against them if they had spoken their assumptions aloud. 

Maybe, just for a little while, she can pretend that this is real life. 

~

They walk through the festival some more, people watching and wasting time. They have been cooped up in the house for so long that being around people, kind people, seems like a breath of fresh air. They follow the sound of music and Riyo’s heart races with excitement. 

It’s the dance floor. Pantorans love a good dance. As they approach the rhythm of drums, the melody of a fiddle, the whoops of dancers can be heard clearly through the din of the festival. 

Fox, with his genetically perfect height, peers over the crowd. “What is going on up there?” He asks. 

Grabbing his hand, she drags him through the crowd. “Dancing,” she smiles as the dance floor comes into view. Across the soft, ruddy soil, a wooden floor has been rolled out and groups of joyous Pantorans hold hands, skipping in circles and switching directions when the man on the stage calls out to do so. The man calls out to swing their partner, and the circles melt away to two partners, elbows interlocked, skipping around. A call for a switch and the partners grab the person next to them, skipping in a circle again. 

“That looks complicated,” he mutters. 

“Well it’s not too bad, the man on the stage is calling out the dance moves.”

He nods sagely. 

Before she can think better of it, she wraps her elbow around his and starts swinging him in a circle. 

“What _are_ you doing?” He asks. 

“Dancing!” She chirps. They aren’t on the dance floor, but off to the side, kicking up red soil as she skips and Fox more or less trudges because there are _people_ here to witness his poor dance skills. 

The man shouts something and Riyo changes the direction they are moving. “Come on, live a little!” she laughs. 

She can see him physically contemplate this before he mutters something to himself that she can’t catch and actively starts dancing with her. 

“You know the dance?” A group of teenagers come up to them, speaking in Pantoran. 

“I’m teaching him,” she says with a nod to Fox. He looks a little paler, making the redness of his nose stand out even more. 

“Join us?” One girl - she still has bandages over her tattoos - asks. 

“Oh I don’t know.” She turns to Fox and explains in Basic, “They want us to join them.”

His jaw falls open and the young girl turns to him and says, in choppy Basic, “Please! We need one more couple. We will help you learn!”

He sputters, but the girl is already dragging him onto the dance floor. The girl’s boyfriend takes up Riyo’s arm and before either of them have a chance to protest, they are in a circle, skipping clockwise around the floor. The Pantoran man calls out a change and the girl translates for Fox, dragging him in the other direction. 

She has never seen his eyes so wide and, well, filled with sheer terror that she tries not to laugh. They split up into partners at the next call and Fox moves to take her elbow, but is swept up by the girl, and she by the young boy. They call for a switch; this time she reaches for him, but is swept up by another Pantoran boy and he by another girl. 

When they finally are back into the main circle, she is beyond grateful to have his hand in hers again. He visibly sighs with relief. 

Then the tempo increases. 

They are nearing the end of the song, there is always a tempo increase before the end, but when they go to grab a partner, they are both snatched up again. Fox gives her an incredulous look, but she can only smile in response as the young Pantoran boy fumbles worse than Fox. He can swear up and down that he is a terrible dancer until the eopies come home, but she would rather be in no one else’s arms. The crowd starts whooping as the tempo increases and some couples, instead of interlocking arms, clap above their heads and freestyle with fancy footwork. The man calls for a final partner switch and Fox and Riyo land in each other’s arms just as the band cuts off and the crowd erupts with cheers. 

Her chest heaves with exertion and the cold air in her lungs feels invigorating. Puffs of air escape from his parted lips and she wants so badly to push up on her toes and claim his lips with her own. His eyes flitter across her face and she feels _seen_ in a way that only Fox makes her feel. He has a way of noticing every tiny detail. 

Thunder rolls in the distance and a raindrop falls squarely on her nose. She scrunches her face in reaction, the icy water catching her by surprise. And with no warning at all, the sky splits open and rain pours from the heavens. 

Fox grimaces as the water drenches him and she squeals, grabbing his hand. “Come on!”

~

They sprint to the speeder, darting through people dancing, welcoming the rain, and others who are seeking shelter or similarly sprinting to their mode of transportation. The mud squelches under foot, and when they reach their battered orange speeder, they struggle momentarily to pull up the roof. 

They climb inside and huff with the relief of no longer being caught in the torrential downpour. Rain falls in sheets, the wind carrying it every which direction. 

“This is like a Kaminoan storm,” he comments, tugging off his soaked hat and stuffing it in an equally soaked pocket. 

“Well, let’s get home so we can get out of these clothes and not catch a cold.”

She starts up the speeder and they head back to the farm house. 

~

As she pulls onto the private lane, the speeder sputters to a halt and all the lights on the dash die. “Oh… Oh no.” 

The storm still rages outside as she beats the dash uselessly. 

“Well,” Fox begins. “Looks like we are walking the rest of the way.”

Thunder rolls in the distance and Riyo rests her forehead against the dash. “I suppose I should be grateful it has lasted us this long.”

He hums in agreement. Pulling out his wet hat, he slips it over his head again with a shiver. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.”

They both leap from the speeder and meet at the front, running down the private lane. Riyo slips in the mud, but Fox catches her. A giggle erupts from her lips, the icy water running down her spine and making her feel alive. He takes up her hand, she supposes to keep her steady, and they run like their lives depend upon it. 

~

They charge into the house, both of them soaked to the bone from the raging storm. They stumble through the doorway, laughing. They’ll have to go get the speeder tomorrow, but tonight… 

Well, tonight has been perfect. 

Fox rips the soaking wet hat from his head and stuffs it once more into his pocket as they both fall against the wall of the entryway. He doesn’t think he has been more cold in his entire life, the iciness of the rain has seemingly made its way into his bloodstream. 

“Tonight was perfect,” she smiles, shivering slightly. 

“It was,” he returns her smile. 

They both sheepishly look at their feet to avoid the other’s eyes and notice their hands are still intertwined. “Oh… Oh I’m sorry,” she whispers, but she doesn’t move to pull away. “You’re just so warm.”

Capturing her other hand, he pulls both of them up to his lips and huffs air to warm them. They rest with their shoulders against the wall as he rubs her fingers, trying to bring life back to them. They are like ice, and he imagines his aren’t much warmer. 

“Better?” He asks, keeping her hands ensnared in his own. He holds them close to his chest, hoping that some of his body heat will seep through his wet clothes and to her. 

Her eyes are on her hands and slowly move up to his face. She steps closer. His breathing stutters. Her eyes look warm, and her lips are just slightly parted. 

“A little,” she purrs. 

He brings their hands up to his lips once more, huffing air onto their thawing fingers. “Now?” He breathes. She is almost pressed to him and her eyes haven’t torn away from his. 

The air between them vibrates and Fox can feel his resolve slipping. She’s gorgeous. The rain has washed away her makeup, revealing her clan markings, and her fluffy, mauve waves have been pulled straight by the weight of the water. The ivory of her sleeves has transformed into sky blue as the tone of her skin bleeds through the now transparent fabric. His eyes find hers once more and the last thread of his resolve snaps when she whispers his name delicately, like a wish, a prayer muttered in the silence just before dawn. 

He bends down and captures her lips with his. It’s probably not a good kiss, but his mind is white with the pleasure of feeling how soft her lips are. She is soft and tastes slightly like cinnamon and rain. This may be his first real kiss, but he wouldn’t mind many, many more. 

His brain catches up with his body at that thought. This is _wrong_ . He is a clone. She is a senator. This is so _wrong_. He has her hands in his own, she couldn’t shove him off even if she wanted to. His stomach twists with guilt. 

He pulls away. “I’m sorry,” he blurts, but that is all he manages before her lips find his again. 

“Don’t apologize.” Her hands, now free, find his wet hair and grab ahold of his locks. He can’t help the moan that escapes his mouth only to be swallowed by hers. She opens her mouth and he follows her lead, accepting her kiss like a man starving to death. 

And maybe he is. 

He moves them farther into the house, backing up against the wall that leads to the kitchen. She sighs in approval and he lets his hands wander. He finds her cheeks, cupping her mouth as she kisses him harder, and twines them into her hair, knotting his fingers in her waves. 

Her hands roam up his chest and push his jacket from his shoulders. Removing his hands from her hair, he pulls his arms from his jacket. Heedless of inside out sleeves, he lets the coat fall from his body and to the floor with a wet smack. Then his hands are on her again, roaming up her torso and under her shawl. 

He has seen a few pornos in his lifetime. Hell, he used to be in charge of the smuggling ring on Kamino, but _seeing_ something and _applying_ it are two, completely different animals. 

His hand grazes over her breast and she gasps against his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, jerking his hands back to his sides. 

She rips off her shawl, her arms crossing her body and her head in a way that dizzies him for a brief moment, and lets it hit the floor without remorse. “Touch me,” she orders and he has never been more eager to follow a command in his entire life. Her shirt is nearly entirely see-through and he feels warmth pool in his stomach at the sight. He starts at her face, cupping her cheeks, then sliding his hands to her shoulders and to her breasts where he tentatively runs his thumbs across her raised nipples.

Shuddering, she breathes harder into his mouth and tugs on his hair. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles against her lips. 

“Stop apologizing,” she whispers. “I want this. I want _you_.” She grabs his face and pulls him back down to her lips. 

His stomach does a flip and he kisses her in earnest. They stumble further into the house, crashing into an end table on their way, and land against the golden living room wall. She tugs at the hem of his shirt and he helps her pull it over his head, chuckling as her slender arms struggle to reach. The fabric falls away and she presses a kiss to the center of his chest, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. She pushes to her tiptoes, trying to gain better access to his neck and he slips his hands under her, pulling her up to eye level. 

Her legs wrap around him and he could die. Her arms wrap similarly around his neck, her hands threading through his hair as she kisses his ear, his neck, his collarbone. 

A very undignified noise escapes between his lips, a mix between a moan and a curse and maybe her name. 

She whispers in his ear, “Bedroom.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Keeping one hand firmly under her and one supporting her back, he guides them towards the stairs, his lips never leaving hers. 

She breaks away only to pull her shirt from her pants, over her head and toss it aside without ceremony. Fox stumbles, and they fall into the wall. He’s pretty sure a picture crashes to the ground, but he can’t be bothered as he kisses the indescribably soft skin of her breasts. She moans, and reaches between her legs to fumble with the clasp of his pants. 

Remembering their destination, he toes off his boots and climbs up the stairs clumsily as he eagerly accepts more of her. They fall against the cool durasteel of her bedroom door and he fumbles for the keypad as she bites down on his ear. 

They stumble into the room and he tosses her, gently, to the bed. She shrieks with laughter and falls on her back, her legs hanging over the side of the bed and her hair splaying around her shoulders in a sea of mauve. Her lips are swollen and a darker shade of lilac and her pupils are blown wide. 

Her smile fades slightly, though, and she covers her body with her hands self-consciously. He claims both of her hands and presses gentle kisses to her fingers and palms. “You are… so, so beautiful,” he says to her hands. 

~

She can’t stop staring at him. He is shirtless, his dark hair is mussed and his eyes are so dark with lust that she can hardly differentiate between his pupils and his irises in the dim light of her bedroom. “So are you,” she murmurs. 

He smiles and she sits up, capturing him between her legs as she undoes his pants and shoves them down his thighs. He finishes what she started as she palms his straining erection through his GAR-issued boxers. Grunting, he swats her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, retreating further and searching his face for forgiveness. 

“No, I-uh,” he clears his throat. “I want to try and enjoy as much of this as I can before… you know,” he trails off and grabs the back of his neck. 

He blushes deep crimson, she can tell even in this lighting, and she pulls him closer with her legs. His knees hit the edge of the bed. “There is nothing to be self-conscious about,” she smiles. 

“I’m not… the most experienced,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes firmly averted.

“Then we will spend all night learning each other.” 

He looks up at her, clearly searching her face. 

“It’s just you and me,” she reassures him, taking his hand and pressing it to her lips. “Fox and Riyo.”

He bends down, capturing her lips and lowering her back down to the bed. “I like the sound of that,” he whispers in her ear. 

He stands up once more and undoes the clasp on her pants, slowly pulling them from her legs and carefully removing her boots. Tears start to form in her eyes and she blinks them back before he gets the wrong idea. It is just… she has never been treated so gently, so reverently. 

So loved. 

Her pants fall to the floor and so does he, kissing the inside of her knee and drawing his lips up higher and higher and higher. Her breath catches in her throat as he kisses her hip bone and she exhales sharply when he kisses her stomach. He kisses her again and she squeals with laughter as the stubble on his face tickles her mercilessly. 

He looks up, purposefully dragging his chin across her stomach again, “Ticklish?”

She squirms and her muscles clench. “I think I know why your name is Fox,” she giggles, grabbing him by his hair and dragging him up to her. 

He kisses her lips, then moves to her neck and the valley between her breasts. “Why is that?” He rumbles, sending a wave of warmth between her legs. 

“You,” she gasps as he nips at her skin, “you are too mischievous for your own good.” 

He fumbles with the clasp on her bra and she reaches down to help him. Whatever retort he may have had, she can visibly see leave his face as he takes her in. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, gently grazing his finger tips over her breasts. Goosebumps rise across her skin in the trail of his fiery touch. “You’re gorgeous.”

A smile illuminates her face and she gently takes his wrist, guiding him to her nipple and gasps as his calloused fingers caress her. He kisses her again and moves down to take one into his mouth. Stars burst in her vision. 

He can say what he wants about not being experienced, but _stars_ , he is intuitive and a fast learner. And he is _him_. In her youth, before she became so career-oriented, she had experienced her fair share of hookups, but _this_. 

This is on a level of its own. 

Her body sings at his touch - his careful, reverent touches. Together they are a symphony, him a steady tempo and her a fluttering melody. Everything he does is so intentional. He moves with confidence. She knows he is nervous, but can hardly tell. Gently she guides his hand down further and he follows without question. 

He kisses his way down her body, following the trail his fingers have blazed, and she arches up into his mouth. She _needs_ him. Now. Right now. She reaches down and goes to shove off her panties and he swats her hands away. 

“Let me.” 

She picks her head up from her pillow and nearly goes insane when he claims the side of her panties with his teeth and pulls them down, his other hand helping guide them off. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” she curses, vaguely aware that he is chuckling at her fine choice in explicative, and lets her head fall back in ecstasy. She can feel how ready she is for him and it is starting to become painful. She yearns for him. She can hardly believe this is happening. Her heart pounds with excitement when he kisses his way back up her legs and stops. 

She sits up on her elbows again and he is chewing his bottom lip. 

“Everything okay?” She asks him. 

He nods. “If I do something wrong, you’ll tell me, right?”

Smiling softly, she nods. 

“And if I hurt you?” 

“You won’t hurt me,” she promises. 

His brow furrows and she can see the contemplation, the self-doubt. She sits up and claims his mouth with hers again. “Fox.”

He hums into her mouth. 

“I need you… to touch me, before I go absolutely insane.” She grabs his hand and rests it against between her legs. 

Groaning, he climbs on top of her. “Yes ma’am.”

~

He has no idea what in the hell he is doing. He would feel self-conscious, but she was right. It’s just the two of them, they can spend all night doing whatever they want.

Well, maybe not _all_ night. His erection is throbbing painfully and he is pretty sure he might blast off just from touching her and he doesn’t know what would be more embarrassing. _That_ or finishing as soon as she touches _him_. 

At least this way, he stands a good chance of giving her some pleasure before he inevitably shoots off like a trigger-happy shiny. 

He plunges a tentative finger between her folds and the noise she makes go straight to his groin. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, he surveys the area, measuring her breathing as he goes. 

When she stops breathing all together, he knows he has her. 

He carefully swirls his finger and she gasps, her head rocking back. 

“Yes,” she whispers. “Oh, _Fox_.”

The way his name drips from her lips nearly sends him into orbit. He climbs on top of her and kisses his way down her body once more. He can’t get enough of her. He wants to memorize every part of her with his mouth, his hands. He doesn’t want a single area on her body to go undiscovered or unexplored. 

Whimpering, she thrusts into him and he carefully lowers himself between her legs. He had seen this once… in a flic he had smuggled in for Neyo. 

He still has no idea what he is doing.

But damn it if he isn’t going to try. 

He quickly finds the area that had her whimpering earlier and swirls his tongue around a few times. She… _wow_ . He has no words. She tastes amazing. He can hardly believe this is real life and he squeezes her hip bones to ground himself. He focuses solely on her, because if his mind wanders to how this would feel _around_ him... 

Yeah, he shuts down that train of thought. 

~ 

There is not a single coherent thought in her mind. His tongue, sweet Goddess, his hands are roaming over her hips and her thighs and she can’t help but rut up into him. Her body is vibrating. 

She grabs his hand and lowers it. He catches onto her nonverbal request effortlessly and slips a finger inside. 

She can’t remember the last time she felt like this. It somehow means so much more and everything all at once. Her body responds to his touch in a way that she has never experienced before and she feels herself dancing closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fox,” she whimpers. With a flick of his tongue, she falls.

~

Does she want him to stop? She is whimpering like she is in pain and panic flares in his gut. He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he hurt her. 

Then her thighs slam over his ears, her folds clench around his fingers and she cries out something he can’t understand. Oh. 

_Oh._

A stupid amount of pride swells within him. _He_ was able to do that. He, a tube-grown man bred for war, was able to bring a woman, and not just _any_ woman, but Riyo Chuchi to climax. 

He has to be dreaming, there is no way. This moment is too perfect, her naked, laid across the bed for _him_. He can hardly focus. 

Then she is sitting up, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him next to her. 

Who is he to protest? 

~ 

Grinning, she shoves him down on the bed. He falls among all of her pillows with a laugh. She removes his underwear - an unacceptable mistake that has now been _righted._ And, oh is it so right. 

Apparently, when they said genetic perfection, they _meant_ it. 

She tosses her leg over him, straddling him and eliciting a moan from him when her slickness meets his length. His hands snap to her hips and she can tell he is trying to articulate one more rational thought and she smiles. 

“It’s fine. I want to do this and I have an implant.”

He nods and she lines them up. 

Stars burst behind her eyelids and goosebumps flare across her skin as she welcomes him inside of her. 

~

This isn’t real life. There is no fucking way this is real life. 

He is going to last all of two seconds. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to imagine all the grotesque things he has seen in his time as a Commander. Anything to keep himself from shooting off, _right now_ without warning. 

He lets himself open his eyes for a moment and her hands are laid across his. He hadn’t realized he had a death grip on her hips until now and he feels bad. But he also doesn’t think he could remove them if he wanted to. 

She is so damn beautiful. 

Her back is arched and her head tossed back as she exhales breathily, sliding further down onto him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut again. 

She rocks forward and he curses through grit teeth. 

“Fox,” she whispers as she rocks again and his eyes snap open. “It’s okay,” she reaches down and squeezes his hands. “Let go.”

She rocks down once more and his mind goes blank. Everything is gone. All he sees is blinding white and searing heat rushes through his veins. Ecstasy pulses through him as a very undignified sound rips from his chest. 

Slowly the world comes back to him - he is almost positive he blacked out for a second - and Riyo crashes beside him, a dopey smile twisting her lips. 

“Sorry,” he rasps, still trying to find his voice. Everything is tingling and he’s not certain if he is still on the same astral plain or not. 

“Stop apologizing,” she kisses his shoulder. “That was… so amazing.”

Turning his head, he arches an eyebrow at her. 

“Want to take a shower with me?” She walks her fingers down his arm. 

“Stupid question,” he rolls to his feet and scoops her up into his arms. 

~

Both of them wrapped in towels, she leads them back to her bedroom. His fingers fit so nicely in hers that she is beginning to believe that they were made for each other. There was some divine intervention at hand here, making someone for her so perfect. 

They remake the bed together and before they climb under the blankets, she drops her towel cheekily for him. With a blush rising to his cheeks, he does the same and crawls in bed with her. They pull the blankets up to their noses, laying on their sides so that they can face each other. 

Slowly, she brings her hand up to stroke his stubbled jaw. His deep brown eyes roam her face and gently he catches her hand and kisses each of her fingertips. “Am I dreaming?” She whispers. 

“Don’t think so.” He kisses her palm and lays it against his temple. She stifles her giggle at his casual way of telling her to play with his hair. 

And she would never deprive him. She slides her hand back and strokes the hair just behind his ear. She has never seen it so long, and she adores it. She twirls a curl around her finger and he moans into the pillow. 

A few beats of silence pass comfortably between them before he catches her eyes once more. His expression is concerned, the crease between his brows reappearing. “Riyo.”

She presses her thumb against that pesky crease, smoothing it away. “I know what you’re going to say, but leave our worries for tomorrow. Tonight, we are just us.”

“Okay,” he smiles. “Okay.”

~

Light filters through the window and Fox blinks awake. He is sleeping on his back, a habit he doesn’t think he will ever be able to break, and Riyo is curled up on him, her hand splayed across his chest and her leg draped over his. 

They’ve laid like this a handful of times, when he was saving her from her nightmares, but nothing compares to how it feels _naked_. He runs his hand up her spine and is baffled, not for the first time, at how soft she is. She hums at his touch. 

“Good morning,” he rumbles, his voice deep with sleep. 

She presses a kiss to his chest and she rolls her head up so that she can look in his eyes. “Good morning, my darling Fox.”

“Sleep well?” He brushes a thumb across her cheek. 

She hums in the affirmative and turns her head to press a kiss to his wrist. “Did you?”

“Best sleep I’ve ever gotten,” he murmurs, because it was. He had no nightmares and by the time on the chrono on her nightstand, he has slept for 10 hours straight. 

She hums again and presses another kiss to his chest. Warmth stirs in his groin and he sits up on his elbows. “Maybe we should get up,” he suggests, trying to stop something before it starts. Last night could have been a mistake, but definitely not a dream. 

“Or we could stay in bed,” she smiles deviously before disappearing under the blankets. 

~

They bask in the afterglow. The blankets have been tossed aside and they lay tangled together. In the mid morning light, all of his scars are so clear. She grazes gentle fingers over all of them. Starting with the one on his chest. “What is this from?” She whispers. 

“Bounty hunter, jumped in front of a bolt for some ungrateful senator… I don’t even remember their name anymore.”

“You could have died,” she mumbles. 

He hums in the affirmative. 

“What about this?” She moves lower, pressing her lips to what looks like a once nasty burn on his abdomen. 

“Ah, first live fire training as a cadet. Bly messed up laying charges and I pushed him out of the way. Got a wicked burn and he broke his arm.”

He could have died. It sounds like a broken soundtrack, skipping to the same phrase over and over, but he could have _died_. 

“This one?” She questions, grazing her fingers along the inside of his right thigh. 

“I actually like this story,” he smiles. 

She arches an eyebrow. 

“Some brazen, rookie senator came back for me. Tied a tourniquet around my leg with her belt and saved my life.”

That feels like a lifetime ago. “This? Oh sweet Goddess, it looks like they hardly gave you bacta for it.” She kisses the puckered skin. 

He grabs her hands and pulls her back up his body. “Let’s not talk about that.”

“Do they not give you bacta?” She hisses. She notices now, that the straight scar across the back of his hand stretching from one side to the other. It looks like a surgical scar. “Fox?” She asks, thumbing it. 

His brow furrows. “I had to have the bones in my hand reset by a droid after I punched a durasteel cabinet.”

Her eyes flicker from the scar and to his face. “Why?”

“I serve on Coruscant because my entire battalion was killed on Geonosis. I… didn’t cope well with that.” 

She kisses his hand. “I wish I could take all the pain away.” 

“You already have,” he whispers and brings her in for a warm kiss. 

~

“Fox! Come look!” Riyo shouts from downstairs. Fox stumbles down the stairs, adjusting his pants as he does and finds Riyo standing at the back window with her blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her blue skin is practically iridescent with happiness and her hair is tousled, her smile vibrant. 

“What? Did something happen?” He looks outside and sees nothing but _white_. 

“It’s snowing!” She grins. 

It’s beautiful, nothing like how he imagined a land of all white to look. The ground is covered in a thick blanket of crystalline white and thick, fluffy flakes float from the sky silently. It’s the strangest feeling. He expects to hear rain, but he is met with _nothing_. The birds aren’t singing, the crickets aren’t chirping. There is nothing but them and the peaceful ambiance. 

“This is nothing like how I expected snow to look,” he mutters. “I-I’ve seen it in training, but never in real life.”

“Care to go outside?” she grins. 

Returning her grin, he only nods. 

~

They stand, wrapped in coats and gloves out in the fields that they had weeded not a week ago. Fox observes his surroundings, awestruck. Ice and snow coat _everything_. Spears of ice hang from the gutters of their home and sheets of ice slicken the steps of their deck. 

Riyo outstretches her arms and tilts her face skyward, her tongue hanging out of her open mouth. 

“What _are_ you doing?” He asks, keeping his hands firmly shoved in his coat pockets. It may be nice and pretty out here, but it is still kriffing cold. 

“Catching snowflakes,” she says to the sky. 

He watches her. How could he not? She’s so beautiful. Her skin glistens like the snow around them and her mauve locks are tousled from their morning in bed. 

She lowers her arms and eyes him self-consciously. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” he confesses. “You’re beautiful.”

Her face turns dark indigo and she elbows him. “You just don’t want to catch snowflakes with me.”

Shrugging he turns his face up to the sky and lets a few snowflakes flutter to his cheeks. “Just accept the compliment.”

“Yes, sir,” she says and warmth pools in Fox’s gut. 

~

He turns deep red and she wonders what would happen if she started referring to him as ‘Commander’ in a setting where they are lovers. She decides against it for now, though, because she promised him that they would be just ‘Fox and Riyo’ and, if she’s being honest, she’s not ready for this dream to be over with yet. 

As quietly as she can manage, she bends down and scoops up some snow and packs it tightly in a ball. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks when she stands up, her hands tucked behind her back. 

“Nothing.” A grin splits across her lips because she has always been a _terrible_ liar. 

He arches an eyebrow and she strikes. The snowball hits him center mass. 

“What?” He sputters. 

She crouches down and starts packing more snow. “Bet you can’t hit me!” She laughs, and throws another snowball, missing her mark entirely. 

“What is it with you making bets,” he throws a snowball at her, hitting her in the chest, “where you are clearly at a tactical disadvantage?” 

“A tactical disadvantage?” She laughs, throwing another snowball, hitting him in the shoulder. “I believe, my dear Fox, that I am winning so far.”

“Oh?” He throws a snowball and she ducks at the last minute. “Is that right?” 

“Look! I am not nearly as wet as you are!”

A devilish grin twists his lips and she knows that she has made a grave mistake. 

“Oh I can fix that,” he growls as he charges at her. 

“Fox!” She shrieks and reels backwards. “No! Wait!” But she is already tossed over his shoulder and carried back inside. 

~

They don’t even make it up to the bedroom. Buried in quilts on the floor, they lay intertwined with each other. With just the tips of his fingers, he draws lines up and down her back. She sighs contentedly and curls impossibly closer. “You are so warm,” she whispers to his chest. 

“We run hot,” he answers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Something for which I am eternally grateful.”

He chuckles, the deep rumbling reverberating in his chest. Above her, she hears a small ‘ping’ meaning that his datapad has received a notification. Hers is set to a two-toned whistle, something they had to change on their first day here - neither of them knew whose datapad was going off, so they each changed the sound setting. 

He doesn’t move until it pings again. “I should probably get that,” he grumbles and shifts to grab it from the coffee table. She reluctantly slides from his chest and watches his face as it goes from relaxed and contented to crinkled and concerned. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks, sitting up and pulling the blanket around her. 

“They, uh, they caught the bounty hunter who was after you.”

“Who was it?” 

“Some guy named Yin Quesh. He can’t be too good; I’ve never heard of him before and he cracked once Stone applied a little bit of pressure.”

“And?”

Fox snorts. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Riyo sighs. She knows exactly who would threaten her. 

“At least Bibbeck will be far from Coruscant by the time we get back. Thire told me that the Chancellor has dismissed him permanently and he has been taken to a prison in the Colunda sector for his crimes against the Republic.”

As his words sink in, she slowly nods. “This… This means we have to go back, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re expected to jump on a transport first thing tomorrow.”

“First thing tomorrow?” She moves to wrap her arms around him and he shifts away. “Fox?”

He shakes his head. “I… We… We shouldn’t- shouldn’t continue this. We never should have _done_ this.”

She sits bolt upright. “Do you mean that? Because these past few days have been the best of my life.”

He shifts as if her words have stabbed him. 

“And don’t you lie to me, Fox.”

He picks at a loose thread on the quilt. “It’s not safe… for either of us. You will become a target, a laughing stock in the senate--”

“Am I not that already?”

He ignores her. “And I will be decommissioned. Regulation 437-b, inappropriate fraternization with a civilian.” 

She falls silent. She had known, she had known in the back of her mind that there was a real life awaiting their return on Coruscant. They could stay here and play pretend all they wanted, but at the end of the day she is a senator and he is a clone. Whatever they have is illegal, even if it is wonderful and amazing and beautiful. And worth fighting for. 

“I…” she begins and swallows back her tears. “I understand if you don’t want to continue things between us… But this… this is very real for me,” she rasps. 

His eyes snap up to meet her gaze. “It’s real for me too, but...” He sighs heavily. “Riyo, you deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, not a home or little Chuchis of your own. Hell, I can’t even guarantee you a long life together because I age twice as fast. In ten years I’ll be well on my way to sixty. I have nothing to give you but myself and you deserve everything this galaxy has to offer.” 

She inches her fingers towards his. “Maybe all I desire is you,” she whispers, letting her fingers graze the tips of his. “You say that you can only offer yourself and I say that is plenty. If I deserve anything in this galaxy, and I say so humbly, then I deserve to be cared for freely, selflessly, and truly.” She slides her hand up his arm and to his face. He leans carefully into her touch. “To feel this… it is worth every sacrifice.”

He kisses her palm. “What I can give you is hardly worth it. I can’t expect either of us to sacrifice our lives for fleeting glances while I’m nothing more than a wall ornament at fancy galas.”

“It is to me. I would die to give you a life where you are equal to any other man.”

He looks down to her other hand and lays his warm fingers overtop hers. “We would be living a lie.”

“We would be living our own truth.” 

He presses his forehead to hers. “You’re going to be the death of me, I hope you know that.”

She runs her hand through his hair. “Don’t joke about that; it’s too real.”

He catches her lips with his. Out of the several kisses they have shared, this one feels different. This one feels like an apology, gentle and sad. “Then you are going to be the source of my early grey hairs.”

“Ooo, a silver Fox. I might like that look for you,” she laughs, running her hands over his temple. 

He kisses her again, lowering her to the floor. “Riyo?”

“Yes?”

“Just so you know, I would do anything to be able to live like this with you again.”

“Have I turned the Fearsome Commander into a small town farmer?” 

“No.” He kisses her again and, running his fingers across her tattoos, he whispers, “You’ve turned me into a better man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! GUYS. GUYS. It finally happened. <333 This was my first time EVER writing smut so I hope that it came out bearable and not horribly awkward :3
> 
> As per usual, thank you all so much for your sweet comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, EVERYTHING. You all make it exciting to update weekly <33 *hugs*


	13. Potential Energy

Coruscant air is way more pungent than Fox remembers it being. Even in the barracks - it just smells like sweaty men and despair. He has been back for less than a day and he already misses Pantora. Maybe, _maybe_ when the war is over he can offer to work Mr. Chuchi’s land for him. That would be nice. Living the rest of his genetically shortened life working away in a field. It would be nice, he thinks, to do something that didn’t involve violence for once. 

If he happened to curse at a few particularly stubborn weeds, well that is neither here nor there. He wouldn’t want his wide and colorful vocabulary to dwindle from lack of use. 

“Commander!” Thire says as he enters his office _without_ knocking. Fox is already on his second cup of caf, glaring at his datapad. 

“Thire. How can I help you?” He asks, signing his number - he has never hated those six digits more in his entire life - on a requisition request from Stride. Apparently a shiny had lost his scanner _again_. He’s pretty certain these kids are selling them on the black market to get some extra credits to spend on contraband. If their scanner “disappearances” continue, he may have to crack down on the smuggling rings. He knows for certain that Rush is smuggling pornos of several varieties into the barracks. 

“I, uh, didn’t know you were back sir. Thought your ship was landing this morning.”

“It did,” he answers curtly and moves to the next document. It had landed at 0300, he escorted Ri-- Senator Chuchi back home and left her to get a few hours of sleep before her committee meeting at 0800. 

He flips to the next request on his datapad. 

Paint requisition? 

He skims through the details. Blue, white, and yellow paint had been ordered. Those are not CG colors. 

“Thire, what is this paint requisition for? And why did you sign it?” He looks up from his datapad. 

“Welcome back, sir. I, uh, hope you don’t mind, I used your office while you were gone.”

Yes he had noticed. Even though they are the _exact_ same height, his desk chair has been altered and he has not gotten it right yet. 

Hence the second cup of caf already. 

“I noticed. Now, about this--”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m late for a... _thing_.” Thire turns and dashes out the door before Fox can question him. 

Karking di’kut brothers. All of them, the entire lot, are rotten liars. 

~

They have booked a room in the Senate hall that has four different offices branching off of the main conference room. She’s not quite certain what this room would be used for in a traditional sense, but it is _perfect_ for their needs. As decided when she and Fox were staying on Pantora, Bail will be in charge of administering the math exam, Mon the science exam, Padme the literature exam, she will be in charge of the oral interviews, and Fema and Farr will grade everything. 

Apparently, Riyo’s reputation has spread like wildfire throughout the GAR and it had been Fox’s suggestion for her to interview the troopers. He had said that troopers, especially lower ranking men, would be far less likely to speak freely and may feel more comfortable with a name that they know. 

Which is how Riyo feels when she sees the first interviewee on schedule for the day. The clones will start with math, then switch and fill rooms as the day goes on; hopefully allowing them to cover most of the 104th today so that they may begin with the Coruscant Guard tomorrow. Her first interview, though, is Clone Commander Wolffe, one of Fox’s beloved batchmates. When he enters, she is surprised to see how much he… _doesn’t_ look like Fox. Of course, they are _clones_ and while they also share the same grumpy disposition, he has a massive scar over his right eye and a cybernetic replacement that is just ever so _slightly_ off kilter. 

“Commander,” she smiles, standing and extending a hand. He reaches down and accepts without hesitation. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“If it was from Fox, don’t listen to a thing that sly bastard says.”

Riyo giggles, nerves already bubbling within her, and takes her seat across from him. She knows she is here in a professional setting, but she can’t help the desperation of wanting to make a good first impression coursing through her veins. What if he doesn’t like her? What if he tells Fox that he’s an idiot for being friends with her?

Sucking in a deep breath, she says, “You will be pleased to know he has only shared positive stories about you.”

Wolffe rolls his eyes. “So what do we do?” He asks, cutting straight to the point. 

“I’m going to turn on the recorder, ask you to state your name and designation and ask you a series of questions, increasing in difficulty as we go. Are you ready?”

He huffs. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Smirking, she turns on the recorder and they get to business. He answers the questions fluidly, pausing mostly on the same questions that Fox did; describing himself, things he does for fun. 

“Tell me about a time when you were sad,” she says. 

His brow furrows but he doesn’t speak. “I… there are too many times.”

“Any that stick out more than the others?”

He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath. “I’m terrible at math. When I was younger, we were working on solitary assignments and I asked Fox for help. He… got in trouble for talking out of turn. The Kaminoans electrocuted him pretty bad… so bad that he had a stutter for a few days. I’ve never forgiven myself for that. 

"At the beginning of the war, I lost my _entire_ battalion. I had to listen to them cry out for help while I was in an escape pod in my soft-shell… oh that’s, uh, our dress greys, ma’am. 

"And… and most recently, my youngest brother was executed by a bounty hunter for being a good commander and loyal to the Republic. Makes you wonder how many times you can get kicked in the balls before the universe decides enough is enough.”

Riyo wipes the tears from her eyes. “I’m so sorry that you have had to endure such hardship, Commander,” she whispers. “I, uh, have a few more questions for you if you don’t mind.”

She limps her way through the interview. She feels like sobbing, she feels like running to Fox and holding him and kissing him and apologizing for all the wrongs the galaxy has inflicted upon him. But this, this is the only thing she can do to save him from further wrongs. 

“How do you take your caf, Commander?” 

He blushes. “Well, I, uh,” he clears his throat. “I’ll drink it black if I have to, which is a lot of the time out in the field. And,” he waves a finger at her. “That’s what you’ll tell Fox, too, alright?”

“Yes, of course,” she laughs. 

“But I _prefer_ my caf with milk and three spoons of sugar.”

She laughs. “Your secret is safe with me, Commander.”

~

Fox picked up a patrol saying that it would be good to get back in the swing of things, but truthfully it puts him outside Riyo’s office just as she is getting off work. He paces along the lower level of the parking garage just as Riyo steps off the lift. She hesitates, looking around and sees him. “Fox,” she sighs, a smile blooming on her face. 

His stomach swirls with excitement at seeing her. “How did everything go today?” He asks, coming up to her. There are no cameras down here, thank the stupid fucking architects for that small mercy. This used to be a security nightmare, but now he is joyfully exploiting someone else’s incompetence. 

“Very well,” she takes up his hands. “I miss you.”

“It’s been two days,” he smiles, even though she can’t see it. He feels trapped behind his helmet. What he had once found as solace now feels like a prison. His armor is too heavy, his helmet too concealing. 

“I know… but I can’t fall asleep without your snoring anymore.”

“I do not snore,” he scoffs.

“You do,” she giggles. “You should have been named ‘Bear’ because that’s how you sound.”

He laughs. “Take that back.”

She brings his hands up to her lips. “Make me.”

He groans and reclaims his hands. “That’s not fair, I’m wearing my armor.”

She eyes his codpiece and blushes. “Well, I know what I’ll be thinking about tonight.”

“You play dirty, Senator Chuchi.”

“I’m a politician, my darling Commander, do try to keep up.”

~

Fox is studying his briefing notes when a series of frantic knocks rap on his door. He glances at the clock, it is _barely_ 0600\. “Come in?” He says, more concerned about who could be having an clerical emergency this kriffing early in the morning. 

A gaggle of troopers stand at his door, but he is most surprised to find Puck among them. “May we come in, sir?” His Lieutenant asks. 

Fox stands, “Of course, what can I do for all of you?” He asks. 

“Sir,” Puck wrings his hands. “We… we are a little nervous.”

Stride elbows him. 

“Okay, a lot nervous.”

“Why?” Fox asks, incredulously. These are men bred for war, what could possibly have their blacks in a bunch?

“Our sentiency exams are today, sir,” Puck looks down to his boots. 

Oh. 

He had completely forgotten; he had been too busy preparing for his security briefing. 

“And… we really don’t wanna fuck this up so we were wondering if you could… give us some pointers.”

“I see. Gather around boys.” 

Everyone squeezes into his office. Some sit on the floor, cross-legged, others stand or lean against the wall. No one sits in Riyo’s chair. It may as well be her throne. Everyone knows when she comes to visit, they can find her there, in the red-cushioned chair in the Commander’s office. 

Fox sits halfway on his desk and looks at all of the wide eyes. “There is absolutely no reason to be nervous. This is not life or death, you are not going to go in there and get punished for not knowing the answer. All you have to do is your best, and I know each and every one of you will do exactly that. 

I don’t want any of you pestering your brothers about the answers, either. This needs to be done clean and fair like we’re on Kamino. If the Senators find out you cheated, they’ll have no choice but to scrap everyone’s results and start all over again. Does anyone have any questions?” 

Yeah-yeah raises his hand. 

Fox nods in acknowledgement. 

“Were you nervous, sir?”

“I was, but I can promise you now, there is nothing to be nervous about. Okay? I’ve even arranged it so that Senator Chuchi does the interview.”

Everyone visibly exhales. 

“Any other questions?”

Stride raises his hand and Fox nods. 

“Sir, what happens if we do... fail?”

“Then they will know that we’re human and we make mistakes. We’re made to be perfect soldiers, we’re not scholars or politicians or engineers. If you don’t know something, it’s okay to ask and it’s okay to get it wrong. What time do you all need to be at the Senate Hall?” 

“0700, sir,” Puck answers. 

Fox looks at his chrono. “Then you all better get a move on. You don’t want to be late.”

They all stand up. “Sir yessir.”

~

Commander Thire sits down in front of her and gives her a tentative smile. His military haircut is crisp and clean, as is his mustache. If it weren’t for the severe bags under his eyes, she might think he looked chipper. 

“How are you today, Commander?” She smiles. 

“A little nervous, if I’m being honest, ma’am.” 

“Don’t worry, you’re going to do great.”

They move forward with the interview and she asks. “Can you tell me a moment when you were happy?” 

“Oh!” He sits up straighter. “Oh… oh wait. Well, I guess it’s not really a secret, you just can’t tell Commander Fox.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“We painted the barracks last week. Senator, all of my brothers were smiling and laughing and for once it felt like we weren’t at war. It was… amazing.”

“May I ask what you painted?”

He blushes. “Just, uh, just a mural of all the important people in our lives.”

She wonders what is _actually_ depicted in the mural. If he was telling the truth, though, she knows for certain Fox is featured somewhere in it. 

At the end, she asks her favorite question. “And how do you take your caf?”

“Oh, when Fox brews the caf with two spoons of sugar. When I make it, I drink it black, ma’am.”

Oh she agrees with that, Fox brews caf like he intends to use it as speeder fuel. 

~

Lieutenant Puck sits down, his face nearly the same shade as his hair. “Hi, Senator. How are you doing?”

“Quite well, Lieutenant, and yourself?”

“I feel like I’m gonna get sick.”

“No worries, this will be over before you know it.”

As their interview progresses, he starts to relax. His shoulders are no longer scrunched up to his ears and he offers smiles more frequently.

“Can you tell me a time when you were sad?” 

“Oh… I suppose the day I found out that your life was being threatened, ma’am. Really sucks that there are assholes,” he slaps his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Am I allowed to curse?”

“It’s not considered proper basic,” she hedges. _Technically_ she isn’t allowed to tell them what words they are and are not allowed to use. 

“Oh shit,” he turns a deeper shade of red. “Um, I, um... It is awful that they treat you poorly, ma’am.” 

She tries to give him a reassuring smile as they make their way through the rest of the interview. He is doing great, but she can tell he is still worried about the accidental cursing. It really wasn’t so bad, and he has not been the first trooper to curse during his interview. 

“And how do you take your caf?” She asks at the end. 

“When Fox makes it, with cream and sugar. When I make it, black ma’am.”

Noticing a trend, she suppresses her laugh as she ends their interview. 

~

Sergeant Stride sits down and she is overjoyed to be interviewing him after she got to take his first holo for him and his squad. She is even more pleased to know that the pattern painted on his helmet matches that which is shaved in his hair. 

“Describe a time when you were happy.”

“Oh I have so many,” Stride smiles. “When Puck got promoted I got so excited. He has worked so hard and totally deserves it. Oh! And when I got a holo of my squad. We aren’t supposed to have personal items, but I have it taped up on my bunk, don’t tell anyone though.”

The more she interviews these men, the more her heart aches. They’re not allowed to have personal items, they’re not allowed to value their own lives. Every time she asks the question about the out of control train, they all answer the same way. That their life is nothing compared to that of a civilian. 

“And how do you take your caf?”

“Oh, I know it’s probably not very common, but I don’t drink caf. I think it makes me a little jittery. Especially when Fox makes it.” He shudders at the thought. 

She bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing outright. “Thank you very much, Sergeant.”

~

Her last CG interview sits down at her desk, Private Wise. He has a face tattoo, simple geometric designs wrapping around the base of his skull and around his chin. 

“Tell me a joke.” Out of all the responses she got to this question, she knows this one is about to be the best. 

“I get to tell a joke!? Yes!” He laughs. “Okay, well. Can I tell a joke or a funny story?”

“Either.”

“Okay. Hm.. let me think. Oh! This one time, Fox got pissed at us for having a messy barracks. Normally, Thire is in charge of spot checks, but the crotchety bastard decided to do it himself, right? So he tells us to fall in, gets real upset that everything is a disaster, and he says ‘alright, all of you di’kuts clean this up’. Di’kut means idiot, by the way, ma’am. Anyway, _I_ stand there and he looks at me, asking if I didn’t hear him. I looked at him,” he starts laughing. “I looked at him and said, ‘sure are a lot of idiots in here, aren’t there, sir?’. I swear he about blew a fuse! When Fox gets super mad, this vein in the center of his head starts bulging and that thing was about to _burst_. Ah,” he wipes his eyes. “That was one of my finer moments.”

Riyo also has to stifle a laugh as they continue with the interview. Wise is quick on his feet, giving her witty remarks and jokes for answers. 

“And lastly, how do you take your caf?” 

“Oh, just with some sugar, ma’am.”

“Even if Fox makes it?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. If Fox makes it, I just use it for fuel for my speeder bike.”

~

Wolffe falls into Riyo’s chair across from Fox’s desk and Fox tries not to glare at him. He doesn’t know the _importance_ of the chair. Only one person ever sits there and it is certainly not his brute of a brother. 

“How’d your exams go?” Fox asks, sitting back in his own chair. 

“I think I passed,” Wolffe grumbles. “I heard you just got back from a deployment.”

Fox nods. “It was something like that. I just had to go with Senator Chuchi after she received a death threat.”

“What happened?”

“Someone sent her a dead fox so the boys voted for me to go with her.”

“Quite a democracy you’re running these days, Fox.”

He shrugs. He isn’t exactly known for being able to let go of the reins. He hates being in charge, but he hates being bossed around more. But, when it came to the vote for him to be sent with Riyo - at her insistence as well - he didn’t exactly flex his authority. “We’re all equals here. We have a lot of territory to guard all the time and I can’t be bothered to question every decision my commanders make.”

Wolffe nods, looking like he doesn’t believe a word Fox said. “She’s really nice, by the way.”

“I know.”

“Fox.”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful, alright? We don’t need another Bly in our batch.”

Fox decides not to dignify that response with a proper answer. “He’ll be here at the end of the week, you want to go out for drinks again?”

Wolffe shakes his head. “I’m shipping out tomorrow morning. Just wanted to stop by and say you’re a lucky mistake of a decantment. And to not let Bly get to you.”

“I promise Bly is the least of my worries.”

“Just wait until he shows up and meets her.”

Fox rolls his eyes and Wolffe stands. 

“Oh, and Fox. I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“That time on Kamino when I asked for help on my math homework and you got shocked for talking out of turn.”

Fox blinks a couple times. “I-I had totally forgotten about that, Wolf’ika. Don’t worry about it. I was never even mad at you.”

“I know,” Wolffe nods. “I just wanted to say sorry. You were always watching out for us and I’m sorry I never had your back. I wish I could do more now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m… I’m doing alright.”

“You look happier.”

“I am,” Fox smiles. 

~

Fox stalks down the hall to the Chancellor’s office to give his briefing when Riyo jogs up next to him, her hairpiece chiming faintly. He’s not going to lie, he has missed seeing it pinned into her hair, it’s as much a part of her as her tattoos. “Commander,” she smiles. “How are you today?”

“Well, and you, Senator?”

“I’d be better if I knew where the security cameras are.”

He looks down at her. That is quite an odd statement to be coming from her. “Well, uh, there is one at the end of the hall, but there is a blind spot right there by the closet.”

He is being dragged into the closet before he can think twice. The door whirls shut and she pulls his helmet off. 

“What--” his question is silenced by her lips on his. He relaxes into her touch and wraps his hand around her back. 

“I wanted to wish you good morning properly.”

“Good morning,” he smiles and kisses each of her tattoos. 

~

After his briefing, Fox heads back to the barracks to check on the boys. Fox knocks twice on the door to give them a few seconds to hide their contraband that he _knows_ they have. With all of his experience dealing with smuggling rings, he is the best at sniffing them out. He also knows about all of their betting pools, but like the contraband, he likes to turn a blind eye. 

He opens the door. “Boys, how’d--” his mouth snaps shut when he sees the barracks wall. “What… in the _fuck_ is this?” He says as he steps around and gets a better look on the mural painted on the wall. It’s… stunning, really. Everyone is here, every brother in the Coruscant Guard is painted, buckets removed and held at their sides. Front and center, though, is Fox with Riyo sitting delicately on his shoulder. He is smirking and Riyo is grinning, holding a flag that says ‘freedom for my family’.

“Sir!” Puck bounces up next to him. “Thire approved it, but we wanted to paint something to honor Senator Chuchi and all she does for us… and you.”

Fox fixes Puck with a glare. 

“No! I mean, she just… Sir, we know you don’t take care of yourself. We all have stories of times where you pulled us out of dark times or reminded us to sleep or hell, you tucked a couple of us in when we were having nightmares and you were _still_ up filling out requisitions and fuck knows what else. We’re… just happy someone finally has your six, sir.”

“Yeah-yeah, did you draw this?” Fox turns to the trooper who is staring, with the fear of every regulation struck into him, at his commanding officers. 

“Yeah, I mean, um, yessir.”

“You did a good job. This is nice. If you want to fill the rest of the barracks with good, _wholesome_ , art like this… I might approve it.”

Yeah-yeah slouches with relief. “Thank you, sir.”

“So how did the exams go?” He asks, trying to squash the emotions swelling in his chest. He has the best group of men in the GAR. 

~

Commander Bly eases himself into his chair and Riyo is surprised to see that he has face tattoos. He is the first commander that she has met who has any. “Good morning, Commander, how are you doing?”

“Wonderful, ma’am. And yourself?”

“Quite well.” And so she begins the interview. 

“Describe a time when you were sad.”

Bly huffs and sits back in his chair. “I… Well, I try not to dwell on it. General Secura says that a present mind is the best kind… But…” he shifts. “There was this one time… when I was training on Kamino. I messed up _real_ bad. I set charges to detonate after 30 seconds instead of 3 minutes. Fox noticed and shoved me out of the way. I fell off the ledge and broke my arm, but he got burned up real bad. Afterwards, the Kaminoans made him run laps for ruining the drill. He had told them that he set the charges wrong… I…” Bly clears his throat. “And of course I lost my youngest batchmate this year. That… hurt a lot too. I was in denial about that for a long time.”

“And a time when you were happy?”

“Oh hands down when we graduated command class. That was some of the most brutal things I have seen outside of war. But… we made it… together, as brothers should.”

She continues her questions and Bly has some of the most profound answers she has heard. Finally, she says. “How do you take your caf?”

“Actually, I prefer tea. Caf is just hot bean water and I’m not a big fan.”

“Thank you so much, Commander. It has been a pleasure.”

“Likewise, ma’am.”

She turns off the camera and they both stand. “I’d like to thank you again for taking time out of your busy schedule to do this,” she says.

Bly nods. “It was no problem… Though, may I ask something?”

“Anything.”

“I know my brother, Fox, has been helping out with this, will you keep an eye on him? He has a tendency to overwork himself.”

“I will,” she promises. 

~

Bly sits down across Fox’s desk in Riyo’s chair. He grumbles at the sight of a non-Pantoran form there, but doesn’t say anything. Bly is many things, one of them being a clumsy oaf, but he is incredibly perceptive - Fox blames it on him hanging around General Secura too often. Now, combine his new skill with his already formidable knowledge of Foxisms and Fox has to maintain a fine balance to keep his emotions under wraps. 

“So, Senator Chuchi seems nice,” Bly goads, wagging his eyebrows. 

“She’s alright,” Fox shrugs, ignoring the way his heart lurches at just the mention of her name. 

“I can’t believe she actually convinced you to do this. Why _are_ you doing this?” 

Fox sets his datapad down. There’s no point in lying about it. “We were discussing it one day and after Ponds died I decided to do what I could to save more brothers.”

Bly nods. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s gorgeous and nice?”

Keeping his eyes fixed on his brother, he firmly states, “No.” Her beauty had _nothing_ to do with why he went forward with this operation… her kindness though, well that may have sold the deal for him. It was her kindness that spurred her to bring him lunch every Thursday and ultimately convince him that they might have a shot at this. 

“You’re lying,” Bly leans forward, peering at his face. “ _Wait_. You have a crush on her!”

Fox scoffs. “I do not.”

He does. 

It is actually far worse than a crush, but Bly doesn’t need to know that. 

“You do! You _like_ her!”

“You know, Wolffe warned me about this; about how you would project your own love life on my lack of one.”

“I am not _projecting_ ,” Bly scoffs indignantly. 

“Yes you are, you are madly in love with your General and want us to have the same happiness. Well, let me tell you life here isn’t that simple. Not all of us exist in a vacuum.”

Bly stops and his eyes soften. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry about, it’s just the way it is,” Fox grumbles. 

“Maybe things will be different later.”

“I can only hope… For both of our sakes.”

Bly nods. “If it’s any consolation, your secret is safe with me.”

“She’s just a friend,” Fox clarifies. 

“Yep,” Bly kicks back, smirking. “A _friend_.”

~

Riyo waves at Fort as she passes him and heads back to Fox’s office. It’s Thursday, and even if things have changed between them, she doesn’t find that a good reason to change their routine. If anything, it just makes her more excited for their Thursday lunches. 

He beckons her in and she finds him looking stressed. Her heart aches. He is hunched over his desk, furiously writing something, his brow is furrowed, he already has dark circles forming under his eyes, and the cup of caf on his desk looks long past cold. Oh how she misses Pantora and that short period where he wasn’t working himself into an early grave. 

“I brought lunch,” she smiles, sitting down. 

“Thank you,” he shuffles his datapad to the side and gives her a soft smile. “There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“We finished all of the testing today. We just have to grade the tests and attach it to the legislation we’ve drafted. We will probably do one last whirlwind edit, but everything is finally falling into place. We are slated to present next week.”

“How… How do you think everyone did?” He accepts his box of food from her. 

“Well, some did better than others, but I’m confident.”

“That’s a relief. Some of the boys came and talked to me, they were pretty nervous.”

She nods. “I could tell, but they still did wonderfully.” She reaches across the table and takes his hand. “Everything is going to be okay,” she smiles. 

He rubs his thumb across her hand. “I know.” He brings it up and kisses her knuckles. “I’m confident.”

Her breath catches in her throat. Apart from the brief kiss in the closet she stole from him this week, this is the first time he has kissed her since they arrived on Coruscant. Her veins fill with molten lava as his deep brown eyes look up from her hand and to her eyes. 

“Does… does your office door lock?” She rasps. 

Grinning, he gets up to lock it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that isn't 10k+???? Phew! Thanks for reading, guys!


	14. Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are any reader warnings. If there are, let me know!

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Riyo mumbles at her reflection while Ilona stands behind her, pinning her hair into two rolls. In just a few hours she will be hovering on the Rotunda floor with her team, presenting their data and legislation. 

“You’re going to do great,” her friend reassures her, “you’ve been working so hard on this. You’ve got it in the bag.”

Riyo sucks in a deep breath. This bill has been setting the news cycles ablaze as they count down, to the second, when the debate will begin. Reporters have been calling her incessantly and the paparazzi have taken to peeping through her windows to get shots of her doing things. Not that she is ever doing anything interesting; she keeps that strictly to the Coruscant Guard office - where paparazzi are not allowed due to operational security. However, with the rising desperation of the paparazzi to get good shots of her and the Clones’ Rights Committee (CRC), Fox has taken it upon himself to give them a security detail. 

A security detail that he happens to be leading. 

He is slated to pick her and the other senators up in an hour and take them to chamber E-11 so that they can comb over last minute details. Even the prospect of having him at her side does nothing to quell her ever-rising anxiety. 

The committee decided early on that she would be the one to present the legislation in the Rotunda. She has spearheaded this from the start and it would only be right for her to see it to its conclusion. That’s what they had said, anyway. Riyo happens to think that either Bail or Padmé would have done a much better job, but it is too late in the game to be making changes like that. 

This is it. If she messes it up now, these men, who have never had a choice in _anything_ , will be left to fend for themselves in a galaxy that already hates them. 

She can _not_ afford any mistakes today. 

Sighing, she glares at her datapad as she reviews her speech for the thousandth time. She can do this. She can _do_ this. 

There is a knock at her door and both of the women flinch - with the recent threat, the paparazzi, and the tempestuous public opinion of the CRC, both of them have been justifiably anxious. Ilona goes to the door, though, and peers through the peephole. “Oh, it’s just the commander,” she says as she presses the keypad. “Welcome, Fox. How are you today?” Ilona smiles. 

“Well, ma’am--”

“Please, Ilona will be just fine.”

Fox pauses. “I’m doing well, Ilona. Is the Senator ready?”

“Ri’chka!” Ilona calls, but Riyo is already rising from her chair, clutching her datapad like it is her lifeline, and entering her living room. At the sight of him standing at parade rest by her door, calmness washes over her like a tidal wave. He always has that effect on her - she may think that nothing will slow her racing thoughts, not even him, but she is always proved wrong by the sight of him. She may not be able to touch him, or tell him she loves him, but with his steady presence beside her, she is able to do anything. 

~

Fox stands in the periphery of the conference room as each senator goes over their notes. If Fox didn’t know any better, he would say that it looks like they are preparing for war, and in a way, maybe they are. Flimsi is spread across the table like maps and data schematics, while each senator wildly types on their datapad, making last minute notes or corrections. This is the final preparation for a debate that is likely to set the galaxy on fire. For weeks, the Guard has been making preparations for today. They have increased patrols along main thoroughfares and equipped those men with fundamental riot gear just in case. Who knows what today will bring, but at least his boys will have extra armor on while they patrol the restless populace. 

“These test results cannot be denied. To deny that the clones are men is to deny that any of us deserve the right to hold this position,” Riyo stares at her datapad as she reads the speech carefully and succinctly. “Over the past several months, The Clones’ Rights Committee,” her voice cracks. “Over the past several months -- Padmé I can’t do this,” Riyo huffs. “I get far too nervous, I wouldn’t be able to convince anyone of anything.”

“You don’t have to convince them, we have data for that,” Baab states with only a glance from her datapad. 

“I need some air,” Riyo hiccups and darts out of the conference room. 

The room falls silent and everyone shares concerned looks. They don’t doubt her abilities as a Senator, but he can see them start to doubt her strength. Fox shifts in his spot as a wall ornament. He wants to go after her, but here is an entire room filled with at-risk senators. Leaving them to check on her would leave them momentarily unguarded. His decision is made for him, though, when Padmé approaches. 

“Commander, would you mind speaking to her? I think she could use a clone’s perspective. She’s doing just fine, but it would mean so much more coming from you.”

Fox nods. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Stepping into the hall, he finds that Riyo hasn’t gone far. She is huddled behind a potted plant, sniffling silently. “Ri’ka?” He coos softly, stepping around the plant and to her. “Are you alright?”

She shakes her head. “No, I… I can’t do this.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

“No!” She shouts and he flinches on instinct. “No… everything _has_ to be perfect. Everyone is counting on me. Your brothers, my friends… If I mess this up they will never know peace.”

Fox casts a glance behind him before he puts his hands on her shoulders. She looks up and stares into his visor, her eyes brimming with tears. 

“You do not have to be anything other than yourself to move people. Hell, we’ve made so many mistakes along the way, but the boys still painted a mural of us in the barracks. The perfect thing doesn’t need to be said right now, anyone can read a briefing, the _right_ thing needs to be said right now. So be yourself, because you… you are _right_.”

She blinks wetly, the last of her tears escaping from her eyes, and he gently reaches up and wipes them away. “Fox,” she breathes. 

He holds up a hand to silence her and says, “Get back in there and give ‘em hell, Senator.”

~

Riyo, Padmé, and Bail step into a pod while Mon, Fema and Farr step into another. Gliding down to the center of the Rotunda, Riyo clutches her datapad. She can do this. She can _do_ this. 

“Today, we will be hearing from the Clone Rights Committee,” Chancellor Palpatine declares. “They are introducing a bill proposing Clone Sentiency and consequently the defunding and disbandment of the Galactic Army of the Republic.” His tone is venomous; what they are doing is almost heresy, but it is right. Chants of disagreement flood the Rotunda and her stomach churns. 

“CRC you may begin your opening statement.”

The chamber falls silent and Riyo looks at her datapad. Her heart lurches and her palms begin to sweat. “Over the past several months, The Clones’ Rights Committee, also known as the CRC, has surveyed several clones of varying ranks to prove their sentiency. Sentiency, as stated by the Convention of Civilized Systems, is to be declared through rigorous testing in the subjects of math, science, and literature along with an oral proficiency interview. The test results you will find in your briefings will shock you. These men, every single one of them, passed the exam with the highest scores possible.” She looks at her datapad. The rest of her speech goes on to discuss data and statistics and why the members of the senate should consider passing the bill. But anyone can read a briefing. 

Say what is _right_. 

Thirty seconds of courage. 

She turns off her datapad. 

“And we as Senators cannot stand idly by and let them be enslaved by a Republic that is meant to fight against such villainy. These men are _sentient_ , yet they are raised as warriors. These men are _sentient_ , yet they are sent into battle. These men… they are _men_ , and they have no choice in what becomes of them. If they were your people, you would cry in outrage - I know I would if I saw Pantorans being conscripted and slaughtered without remorse - yet no one feels outrage on their behalf. The clones, men born and raised on Kamino, are not represented. No one speaks on their behalf. No one protects _them_. This is our moment to do so. They have defended us valiantly against Seperatist attacks, asking for nothing in return, but together we have the power to give them the greatest gift. The gift of their freedom. 

“I implore you to thoroughly read the briefings provided to you today. Read and understand that these men are sentient and they deserve to be treated as such. To deny such is to deny that any of us have earned the title we hold. Standing up for them amongst groups of naysayers will be no easy task, but it only takes thirty seconds of courage. Thirty seconds of blinding courage and you can change the galaxy. _You_ can stop men from being enslaved. _You_ hold the power to make this right.”

She expects the Rotunda to erupt in applause, but she is met with deadly silence. 

“Very nice, Senator,” Chancellor Palpatine sneers. “We will take a recess for everyone to read the provided materials and reconvene tomorrow for a vote.”

~

Riyo paces back and forth across Fox’s meager office. “The problem with legislation like this is you have to make it personal in some way. If a Senator’s people are not directly affected by it, then they won’t vote in favor. We are meant to represent our own system.” 

Sitting at his desk, Fox watches her bounce from one wall to the other. 

“So, in order for it to be successful, we need the people of individual systems to _want_ this; otherwise, the senators will have no real reason to vote for it. I just… I can’t breathe, Fox. I feel like I messed everything up.”

“I found your speech moving,” he says, watching her as she whips around and stalks the other direction. 

“Yes, but you have to say that,” she huffs.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

“Well, friend or not, I’d still tell you if you sucked.”

She stops walking, her eyes wide and a smile twisting her lips. “Really?”

He nods. 

“And… what are your thoughts?”

He stands and rounds his desk. “You did the best you could. That’s all anyone can ask of you and… your best just so happens to be remarkable. Take a deep breath. Everything will be just fine.”

She steps into his arms and he effortlessly wraps her up in his embrace. “Thank you for believing in me when I don’t believe in myself.”

“You act like that’s hard to do.”

“Still, thank you.”

He kisses the top of her head in response.

~

They gather in the Rotunda for the vote. The silence is unbearable. Everyone files in wordlessly, when normally there is a faint chatter reverberating through the durasteel dome. Riyo gives her opening remarks, reminding everyone to vote for the _just_ thing, to protect a group of people who have never known the meaning of that word. 

And the votes start trickling in. 

Riyo presses her own button, denoting that this legislation should be passed and holds her breath. One hour later, the votes are in and Riyo hangs from the edge of her seat with Padmé. 

It passed. 

By just barely a two-third margin, but it passed. 

The Rotunda erupts. 

Padmé turns to Riyo and pulls her into a fierce hug. “You did it! You did it!” 

She can hardly believe it. The cheers and cries of dissent roar around her and she can feel excitement begin to pool in her gut. She can’t wait to tell Fox. She can’t wait to tell him that they can be together, that their galaxy will know peace that his brothers will know freedom. She can’t wait to--

“It is clear that we cannot deny the clones’ their sentiency,” Chancellor Palpatine calls the dome to order. “They have completed the tests and fulfilled all requirements. However, this does not change the fact that they are property of the Kaminoan system and therefore property of the Republic - no different than the droids in which the Separatists use. We are at war and with no other army to fight, they must continue with their mandatory conscription as they are a created people. This is my executive decision implemented by my position as wartime leader,” Palpatine declares. 

The shouts of dissent and cheers of support echo through the hall and Riyo feels her knees buckle underneath her. There is no way. This can’t be real.

~

“Executive decision!” Padmé cries in the CRC chamber. Their committee members all shake their heads in disappointment. Their proposal had passed, everything was going to be right, but it was shut down at the last second by a dictator who claims to believe in democracy. So now, the Republic is going to openly state that they have an army of slaves. 

Riyo wants to vomit. 

“There has to be something more that we can do,” Fema grumbles, shaking her head. 

“We have to appeal to the people,” Mon begins. “We have to make them want to repeal the executive order.”

“Then we can introduce another legislation for the defunding of the GAR and a proposed peace treaty,” Bail continues her thought. It seems easy enough. If the people demand change, the senate - and chancellor - will have no choice but to acquiesce. 

“We may not have the power to overthrow an executive order, but we have the power of the people,” Padmé smiles and Riyo can feel hope stir within her. There is hope. While their chancellor may, in fact, be a dictator, their government is still a democracy. 

Or at least it should be. 

~

“Has anyone asked to be your date for the Senate Gala, yet?” Ilona asks as they comb through a rack of dresses. 

Riyo stares incredulously at her friend, but she seems to be asking the question genuinely. “I spearheaded the CRC, Ilona, I don’t think anyone is going to be asking me to do anything anytime soon.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Ilona says. She pulls out a dress, grimaces and hangs it back up. “You should ask Fox to go with you.”

Riyo sputters, “What?”

Ilona stops combing through the rack and looks up at her. “Ask Fox to go with you. He’s a sentient man now.”

“Yes, but he’s still a commander and he’s still not allowed to fraternize with civilians.” Her stomach churns. She had wanted to stay holed up in her office while she continued her draft, but Ilona had insisted on a distraction, plus the Senate Gala is rapidly approaching. 

Ilona huffs. “That is so stupid. I still can’t believe that the chancellor wants to openly admit to enslaving men. It’s almost like he wants systems to drop out of the Republic.”

Riyo has no comment for that - she can hardly believe it either. All she can do, though, is work even harder on a new draft and hope that the people side with their cause. 

~

“We’re going to try and appeal to the people to vote for a new proposed legislation,” Riyo says. Fox sits across from her in his office, like usual. 

“What good will that do?” He asks. He looks equal parts exhausted and unimpressed with their back-up plan. Out of all the scenarios they prepared for, they hadn’t prepared for an executive order vetoing half of their bill. 

“Well, if we can appeal to the people, we can better inform them that you are _human_ and that you have wants and desires outside of the GAR. Once they go over the sentiency exams then they will, hopefully, rally for a new bill supporting your freedom and demand for it to be passed. Once there is a large enough demand, the other senators will have no choice but to vote for a repeal and proposal of a new bill.” 

He nods slowly and she can see his gears turning in his head. He is planning something and hope flares in her stomach. Fox, ever the analytical thinker and planner, could solve this. He spends enough time around senators to know how to play politics. 

“What if… what if we,” he clears his throat. “Went public?”

“Announce our relationship?” She was expecting a plan, but this is ridiculous; there are so many things that could go wrong. This isn’t even a plan, this is… this is… 

No, this won’t be happening. 

He leans across the desk, mind racing with plans as he explains his positively outrageous idea. “In that interview with Tosh, he said that we’re able to feel love. What… what happens if we show them? That… That I love you, but because I’m officially a slave of the Republic, I’m bound to my duty.”

Her train of thought screeches to a halt. “You-you love me?” 

His brow furrows as he says, “I- Of course I do.”

“I love you too.” Her heart flutters as she leans across his desk and kisses him deeply until reality crashes back to her. She pulls away, falling back into her red-cushioned chair. “No. No we can’t go public, it’s far too dangerous for you.” 

“It’s no more dangerous than going on patrol tonight,” he argues with a nonchalant shrug. 

“You’ll be arrested.”

“So, we be smart about this. Me getting arrested is inevitable, right? So let's do all the leg work first. Work the masses, get your legislation in order and then when you need a spark, we go public. I don’t know what will happen, but the people will finally see that there are consequences to the chancellor’s executive order.”

“You’re talking about making yourself a martyr,” she huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. She will not hear any more of this, absolutely not. She will not let him sacrifice himself because their future is looking murky. 

“But it would work. Instead of making the voters think of saving every man, it is dwindled down to just one,” he shrugs. “It makes it more personal.” 

As much as she hates to agree with him, it would work. They are already moving forward with a draft, and they have scheduled community days for themselves, where people can come and talk to them about their committee and working to improve the clones’ lives. But he could _die_ . The punishment for the crime he commits is death, decommissioned and returned to command with a new number and no name. All of his memories would be gone. _This_ , them, would be gone. 

“I… I can’t risk you like that,” she whispers. 

“You aren’t. I’m volunteering.” 

She sighs. “I’ll consider it. But as a last resort _only_. You may think your life is meaningless, but it isn’t to _me_.”

Reaching across his desk, he takes her hand and presses a kiss to her palm. “I have something to live for, I’m not going to give up so easily.” 

“Good,” she breathes before standing up and leaning across the desk to capture his face between her hands. 

~

Today is their first community day. They have set up their conference room and have a trooper stationed outside and inside, per Fox’s request. 

“Would you like any tea before the chaos begins?” Riyo asks them - Yeah-yeah and Reese - as they set up everything. 

“No ma’am. We’ll be okay,” Reese says. 

“Actually,” Yeah-yeah interrupts. “May I, uh, have a cookie, please?”

Riyo smiles and looks at their spread. On the conference table she has cheese and crackers, various fruit and veggie platters, as well as her dessert dish complete with cinnamon buns and cookies of every kind. “Of course,” she holds the dessert platter to them. “Whatever isn’t used today I’ll send back to the barracks with you, but take what you want now before it’s picked over.”

Yeah-yeah happily grabs a cinnamon bun and Reese takes a chocolate cookie. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Of course, thank you for being here today.” 

Sharing a grin, they scarf down their snacks as Fema and Padmé enter the conference room. 

“There is already a line outside the Senate Hall. The Senate Guard is trying to keep them in order, but people are excited to speak with us,” Fema says as she pours herself a cup of tea and settles behind the desk. 

“Then I suppose we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Padmé states, sitting down on the other side of Riyo. 

Riyo nods to the boys, who have slipped their buckets back on. “Send them in.”

~

So maybe this wasn’t their _brightest_ idea. Reese has had to forcibly remove three people so far, and she can already feel her nerves beginning to fray. They had opened the floor to the citizens of Coruscant in hopes of them appealing to their representative. What they have gotten so far today are people soapboxing about how their representative isn’t doing enough for _them_. Which is true, sure. Several senators don’t deserve the title they hold, but they desperately need a foothold within the people for their own cause. 

“Send in the next person,” she tells Reese, trying not to let exasperation color her voice. It’s just she had hoped someone, _anyone_ would be interested in the topic of the CRC. 

He nods in response and returns with a small, elderly, human lady in tow. “Hello,” she smiles as she enters. Her face is textured with laugh lines and deep crow’s feet. Her hair is white with streaks of dark grey and pulled back in a tight bun. “My name is Arla. How are you ladies doing today?”

“Quite well,” Riyo answers. “How can we help you today, Arla?”

“Well,” she begins. “I work with local shelters and we provide basic necessities to people who do not have enough. I understand that the clones are probably receiving the bare necessities, but I was wondering if we could donate some items to the battalions, as care packages of sorts.”

“That,” Riyo looks to her companions, both of whom look impressed. “That actually sounds lovely.”

Pulling out the chair, Arla sits across from them and turns on her datapad. “Wonderful, what are some things that they don’t have that they could use?”

“Well, I know for a fact pillows and blankets. They have neither of those,” Riyo says.

She looks up in horror. “Those boys… have no pillows or blankets?”

Riyo shakes her head. “No, ma’am.”

“Sweet maker, okay. We have a crocheting club, we will get to work on some pillows and blankets. Anything else?” 

“Socks,” Reese says from behind her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn,” he apologizes, pressing himself further against the wall. 

“Reese, please have a seat,” Riyo says, motioning to the empty chair by Arla. The elderly woman graciously moves over to provide him more space. “You would know better than any of us, what are some things the troopers could benefit from?”

“Well, socks. Ours are thin and while they technically do the job and cover our feet, they give you some pretty wicked blisters after patrolling all day.”

Arla takes notes. “What about coats and hats?”

“Um, well we have heated gear so I don’t think that would be too bad… Um, oh! Ration bars are awful, if you could give us some food that’d be awesome and maybe, well, am I allowed to ask for fun things?”

“Of course,” Arla smiles and tenderly pats his wrist. “Tell me everything.”

And so the list goes on. Most of the boys have never seen holodramas and they would like whatever Arla can get her hands on. They would like stories to read, cards to play with, snacks of any variety, thicker socks, pillows, blankets, hair dye, paint, sketch pads, pencils, and markers. Arla listens attentively to each item he lists and only asks a question at the hair dye, it is then that Reese removes his helmet and displays his showing roots of his dark blue hair. 

“It’s the only individuality we’re allowed, ma’am.”

Arla adds it to her list with a star and Riyo wants to cry tears of joy. Finally, _finally_ someone who understands that they’re human. 

Arla scribbles a few notes and says that she will work diligently and be in touch at the end of the week. 

The rest of their community day goes well enough. Only four more people need to be escorted out, but most seem to ask good questions. They want to know _why_ the clones are being forced into mandatory conscription even if they are sentient, to which no one had the answer. Riyo states that due to their upbringing, the Republic claims to have no other choice, but they do and that is the peace treaty the CRC is proposing. Riyo also explains their plan for re-introducing the bill and planning for a peace treaty with the separatists. 

The people who stay and listen to their action plan, support it. They say that if any group of people deserves freedom, it is the men who have fought to protect it. A few of the people even stop to shake Reese’s hand on their way out the door. 

At the end of the day, true to her word, Riyo boxes up the left-over food and hands it to the two troopers. “Thank you again, for helping today,” she says to them as they walk out of the Senate Hall. 

“The pleasure was ours, ma’am,” Yeah-yeah says as he adjusts his grip on the boxes. 

“Can you do me one small favor?” She asks. 

“Of course, anything for you, ma’am!” They chirp, backs straightening with pride. 

“Can you make sure that Fox gets a cinnamon bun? They’re his favorite.”

“Yes, ma’am!” They salute her and scurry off. 

~

Stalking into his office - the riots are finally starting to die down and he isn’t certain if that is a good or bad thing - Fox takes off his bucket and sets it gingerly on his desk. Right next to a cinnamon bun. He blinks a few times, thinking it is a sleep deprivation induced hallucination and smiles when he realizes the sweet treat is truly there. He picks up the bun and spies a sloppily written note underneath it. 

_Senator Chuchi gave us a platter of treats to share with the boys with a stipulation of making sure you got a cinnamon bun. V/R Priv. Yeah-yeah_. 

Smirking to himself, Fox takes a bite and, turning on the radio, he settles into fill out forms. 

~

“The truth is,” Bail says as they sit in their committee chamber, “that the public is simmering down. The outcry for enslaved men being sent to war just doesn’t mean as much as we thought it would. Of course there are smaller groups posting on the holonet, but no action is being taken. There is no spark.”

Riyo’s gut clenches at the word. They’re right. There is no spark. There is no rallying behind men who, according to the chancellor, are no better than droids. There is no one name to stand behind. Her heart sinks into her stomach. “Commander Fox had an idea,” she mutters, almost hoping that no one is listening to her.

“What was it?” Farr asks, leaning on the table. 

“He says that… we need to make it more personal. We need to give them a face to get behind and a reason to do so. Right now they see men going to war, but they’ve been bred to do so, so what is the difference? If we… if we show them that they _can_ love, but are prohibited from doing so due to their… status as indentured servants… perhaps the people would push for the introduction of our new legislation.”

“No offense to Fox, I’m sure he’s a swell guy, but who would love him?” Fema asks, poking her take-out with her fork. 

Riyo stares at her hands and the committee falls silent. When she looks up, everyone is staring at her. 

“You?” Fema asks, the word sounding choked and strained. 

Riyo can only nod as everyone stares at her. 

“As much as I hate to say it, the commander has a point. People love a story of overcoming odds, and if they show that he can’t because the Supreme Chancellor flexed his authority… Well…” Bail trails off. 

“He would be a martyr,” Padmé argues. “We can’t just _sacrifice_ him.”

“What is one life to that of countless others?” Farr asks. 

Riyo winces and looks back at her hands. They are all making valiant points. What is his life to that of all his brothers? Just because she loves him shouldn’t make him any better, any more important. 

But it does. 

“Fox has already made up his mind, but if we decide to move forward with this, everything needs to be airtight. I will _not_ lose him to legislative oversight,” she declares.

They nod. “We’ll do our best.”

~

The bill is written and some local action groups are stirring for a push for more clone advocacy. They just, unfortunately, need a spark. Arla has been doing wonders, speaking out about the lack of comforts clones have as the first wave of care packages arrive at their destinations. Bly’s battalion is the first to receive their packages and a few pictures of his men wrapped in crocheted blankets have surfaced on the holonet. And, with the surfacing of those images, a few more people have begun to rally, but it still isn’t enough. 

Which is how she finds herself in a conference room with Padmé, Fox, and Thire. 

“Fox, this is the stupidest thing you have ever suggested,” Thire groans, scrubbing his face. 

“Unfortunately, Fox is right,” Padmé sighs. “The people need to be ignited for a cause smaller than saving the entire GAR. If we can dwindle it down to one man, then the people will rally and as a result we will have freedom for every man.”

Thire stifles his groan, but looks to the two senators. “Alright, so what do we do?”

The Senate Gala is at the end of the week. Fox originally had been in charge of security, but that is easy to shrug off onto Thire. Fox and Riyo will be in attendance as a couple, allowing senators to see and hear Fox as something other than the clone commander. After the gala, they will return to her apartment and take full advantage of the paparazzi that have been lurking outside at all hours. The Senate Guard will have no choice but to arrest Fox, where Thire will swoop in, stating that he must be held in GAR prison for breaking GAR rules. 

Then the womprat race begins. The CRC will have to bust their asses to introduce the bill, time it just right, get it passed, and earn Fox a pardon before the Kaminoans intervene and decommission him. 

It seems simple, but her stomach is churning. This relies on sheer luck and good timing. If anything goes awry, Fox will be decommissioned and she will lose the only man she has well and truly loved. 

Fox takes this all in with confident calmness and Riyo wonders how many times he has looked Death in the face and told It that he is not afraid. 

She wonders where he gets this bravery. 

She wonders if she can be just as brave as he is. 

She wonders about a lot, but mostly she prays that everything goes well. 

~

“His uniform is grey,” Riyo says as she flips through the racks of dresses. “He is going to wear his ceremonial uniform, but it’s still mostly grey.”

Ilona hums. “We can work with that. I wish that we could get him into formal robes, but we can work with grey.”

“I’m so nervous, Lona. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this.”

“Just… try to stay positive, everything will be alright.”

Silence falls between them as they shop. Despite everything, mostly her hesitance at the beginning, Ilona has been incredibly supportive of her and Fox’s relationship. She is not excited, however, about their idea to go public. Ilona had said that it would put her in the crosshairs just as badly as Fox, but ultimately decided to support her when she realized that there was no other option. 

Ilona gasps and pulls a dress off the rack. “Try this on.”

It looks terribly gaudy, Riyo thinks, but Ilona has always been the more fashionable one, so Riyo doesn’t protest. 

Slipping into the dressing room, Riyo changes into the formal gown. It’s stunning, really. It is a one-shoulder gown, with just a singular strap coming over her right shoulder. It hugs all of her curves in just the right places and, covered entirely in crystals, it fades from vibrant white-silver to dark gunmetal grey. She gives a small twirl in the mirror before she steps out of the dressing room. 

Ilona gasps when she sees her. “Ri’chka, this is perfect.”

“You think?”

“I know… Plus he’s going to love it.”

Riyo smiles. The idea of spending an evening with Fox somewhere other than his office fills her with giddy excitement. Their time is so limited that she values every second she has with him. Even knowing the future ahead, she lets herself look forward to an evening with him. 

~

Fox digs his ceremonial uniform out of his closet and dusts it off. He has never actually worn this thing. All Marshal Commanders are given one in case they have to attend Jedi events with their Generals, but Fox doesn’t have a Jedi or a General, so it has hung lifelessly in his closet since his promotion. It’s not the ugliest thing, it is far prettier than their mess dress, that is for certain, but it certainly isn’t going to compare to the senators at tonight's gala, either. 

After Fox shaves and tries to comb his hair into a passable style, he puts on the uniform. It doesn't look half-bad, now that he has it on. His pants are black, a nice modest cut like his greys, and the uniform top still fits, though a little snug through the chest and arms. It is a bland grey, but once he attaches his service medals to his chest and rank pins on the collar, he finds himself admiring his reflection. 

He does a quick mental checklist, knowing that he won’t be coming back here in the morning. He has shifted all emergency codes to Thire, given him a list of forms that need to be filled out, organized by due date and importance, and instructed him on how to properly brief the chancellor so that it is quick and painless for all parties involved. With a steadying breath, he steps out of his room and strides down the hallway to the garage. 

Several cat calls whistle down the hallway and Fox stops to glare at the perpetrators. “Lookin’ good, Commander!” A gaggle of troopers stand at the end, eying him up and down. 

“Yeeeeooooowwww, Commander Foxy on the move!”

“Panties are gonna be dropping all night, sir!” 

“Back to work!” Fox shouts, feeling his face blush. 

As he exits, he hears more whistles and lets himself smile a little. 

Just a little though. 

~

He knocks politely on her apartment door and, failing to find something else to do with his hands, settles into parade rest. 

Ilona opens the door. “Fox, you’re just on time.” She welcomes him into the apartment and he takes a steadying breath. “Ri’chka your date is here!”

She emerges and he feels like he has been kicked in the gut. 

She is breathtaking. Her dress is silver and grey and _iridescent_. Her hair is pinned up, but several curls frame her face. Instead of her golden hairpiece, she wears a modest golden crescent moon pin on the side of her updo and Fox is reminded of the night of the festival. 

“Wow,” Riyo exhales, and he realizes that she has also been gawking at him. 

“You look… wow. Gorgeous,” he finally manages.

Beside him, he vaguely hears Ilona stifle her giggle. 

Grinning, Riyo says, “You look amazing, as well. Are you ready?”

He offers his arm to her and she graciously accepts. “As ready as I can be.”

“Then let’s not delay.”

~

Arm in arm, they walk up the red-carpeted steps to the gala hall. Riyo had listened to Fox complain about this event for weeks. The windows leave much to be desired in the sense of security, but for tonight, the floor-to-ceiling windows will play in their favor. Already, they have seen a few men with cameras, and Riyo had simply tightened her grip on his arm and forced herself to seem candid. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

He nods. 

They cross the threshold into the ballroom. It is a grand affair, but there is hardly a single senate event that isn’t. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling with ivory fabric draped between them adding to the effervescence of the decorations. Tables with matching ivory tablecloths are set around the periphery of the room with - most likely, horribly expensive - crystal centerpieces. 

As they walk through the hall, still arm in arm, every passerby falls silent and watches them go. While she likes to think it is because they both clean up rather nicely, she knows it's because a clone is never seen without his armor _or_ on the arm of a senator at a stately affair. 

“Riyo!” Padmé calls, waving her over to where she and Bail stand at a small table. “You look stunning,” she smiles. 

“Thank you,” Riyo forces her own smile; she can feel the stares of everyone in the hall. “You look lovely as well.” And she really does, but then again there isn’t a time where Padmé _doesn’t_ look lovely. Riyo can feel her heart rate increasing as the people standing next to them stop talking just to stare. 

“And Commander, you are looking handsome as well,” Padmé smiles. 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Silence falls over all of them as they all silently weigh on the plan. They are debuting their relationship tonight. He will escort her home and in her room, where she conveniently left the blinds open this morning, he will kiss her and they will take full advantage of the nosy paparazzi. 

Then he will be arrested and his fate will rest entirely in the group mingling around this table right now. Of course, he had been present for the planning, but now with him standing here in something other than armor it is like they are realizing the severity of the crime they are about to commit. 

A good man, a man they have come to know and love in their own ways, could die. They may as well put the blaster to his temple. 

“Excuse me,” a human senator from a mid-rim planet approaches their group. He is an elderly man, hunched over from either arthritis or the weight of his heavy, copper robes. 

Fox, on instinct, straightens and Riyo squeezes his arm slightly. 

“Hi, Senator Palu, how are you this evening?” Padmé smiles that effortless politician smile. 

“Well, thank you,” he turns to Fox and Riyo tenses. Please let this night not spiral into hours of unbearable harassment. “You’re a clone, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Fox answers with a crisp nod. 

Senator Palu extends his hand, “I’d like to thank you for your service. I know you don’t have a choice in the matter, but my thanks is owed nonetheless.”

With his eyes the size of saucers, Fox tentatively accepts the senator’s hand. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

“With any luck we’ll have a new bill on the floor and you boys will have a choice in military service.”

“Thank you, sir.” Fox nods again. 

“Now tell me,” Senator Palu gently takes Fox’s elbow and guides him to the bar. “Is it true that they don’t give you boys pillows and blankets?”

Riyo lets herself exhale. Networking, it is just networking. She does this all the time and they need as many allies as they can get. 

“Well, he’s certainly a natural,” Bail notes as he watches Fox smile, in what seems a genuine manner to anyone other than _her_ , and listen intently to whatever the Senator is saying. 

“He spends every day protecting senators, if anyone knows how to play the game, it’s Fox,” Riyo says. 

Fox casts a look in her direction as the senator orders them drinks. Offering her best reassuring smile, she nods and gives him a small thumbs up. 

He exhales and turns back to the senator, nodding along to whatever he is saying and occasionally offering points of his own. 

~

The rest of the night goes rather smoothly, much to Fox’s surprise. A few senators come up and speak to him, which is nice. He tries to take it in stride and answers their - sometimes horribly ignorant or personal - questions with as much grace he can muster. 

“So you’ve never seen a holodrama?” One female senator asks, hedging closer to his side. Her black hair is slicked back into an impressively large feather headdress and, turning his head to try and find Riyo in the crowd, he nearly ends up with one of the dark feathers in his mouth. Sputtering, he finds her talking up her own senator and turns his attention back to the woman stepping closer into his personal space.

Fox, suddenly aware of how tight the high collar on his dress uniform is, sips his drink and shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Kora.” She steps closer to him and he steps back. 

His face flushes and he looks to Riyo just in time to see her level a glare at Kora and turn back to her senator. He’s fine. He doesn’t need an emergency evac quite yet. “So if another bill was proposed for clone freedom, would you find yourself voting in favor?” He asks, taking another step back. 

“Of course.” She steps closer. If he wasn’t so kriffing uncomfortable, he might admire her persistence; she is so close now he can smell the alcohol on her breath _over_ her heavy perfume. He doesn’t even know what it smells like, mostly just crippling social anxiety and violation of his personal space. “My friends and I are going to screen the newest _Heroes of the Republic_ drama, you should come along.” She wraps her hand around Fox’s back and he steps to the side. 

“Commander,” Riyo smiles tersely, saving him from this woman’s clutches. Fox eyes the woman’s hands, her nails are so long they may as well be talons. He suppresses a shiver. 

“Senator Chuchi,” he sighs with relief.

“Would you care to have the next dance?” She asks. 

“It’s rather unconventional for a woman to ask for a dance,” the woman squawks. Now that he thinks about it, she does look rather like a bird of prey. Between her feathered headdress, her hooked nose, and long, black nails, Fox feels very much like he may be her next victim. 

“Yes, well, I’m not really a person, so I guess I’ll have to accept,” Fox hooks his arm around Riyo’s and he’s not sure who is walking faster to get them away from her, him or Riyo. 

Only on the dance floor does it truly occur to him that they are about to dance. “Fuck, Riyo, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mutters as he finds their hold. 

“It’s a waltz, so keep in the block that I taught you.” 

He nods just as the music begins. He moves forward and she steps backward, and they float across the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, fingering the high edge of his collar at the nape of his neck. 

“For what?” He asks, navigating them away from a very drunk pair. They are hardly dancing, more like staggering. 

“That… _woman_ ,” Riyo spits the word with disgust. 

“It happens,” he shrugs. That isn’t the first time he has narrowly escaped a handsy senator and he certainly doubts it will be the last. Especially when he knows how handsy the senator in his arms can be.

“Well it shouldn’t.”

He smirks and looks down at her. “Are you _jealous_?”

“No,” she scoffs. “I just didn’t like the way she was looking at you. Like you are a slab of meat she can just _use_ to scratch an itch.”

“Your timing was impeccable, though,” he says. “I was starting to fear that I’d have to perform a tactical withdrawal.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Tactical withdrawal?”

“Retreat with as much dignity as I could muster while a truly terrifying woman tried to grab me. Did you see her? She looks like something that would swoop from the sky and devour livestock.”

She snorts. “Oh sweet Goddess, she _does_ ,” Riyo laughs when she spots the woman in the crowd. “I need to bring you to these events more often.”

He groans. “I don’t know if I’m meant for the political arena.”

“You’re doing just fine,” she smiles. “When I come to these alone, I mostly spend the night loitering and eating one too many puff pastries. This is the first time I’ve ever actually laughed at a Senate event.”

“Well, it has been a pleasure. I… I don’t know if I’ve told you, but you look amazing tonight.”

She smiles. “You have told me, though I believe you used the word ‘gorgeous’ before.”

“Then let me tell you again,” he grins and watches with great amusement as her cheeks turn dark indigo, making her tattoos contrast her shimmering skin even more. “You are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

He breath stutters as he dips her with the final chord of the song that had been playing. Her eyes twinkle and he can physically see how much she loves him. Butterflies swoop in his chest and he thinks, not for the first time, of how grateful he is for this woman. He wasn’t lying when he told her that she made him a better man, because she has in so many different ways. He finds himself smiling more; hell, he even laughs more often. But most importantly, he has let himself be vulnerable with her. It is the greatest gift she has given him, her service as his greatest confidant along with her unwavering belief in him.

He brings her upright. 

“Ready to get out of here?” She sighs, the adoration dancing in her eyes suddenly darkened by worry. 

He answers by placing a gentle hand on her back and guiding her through the crowd of senators and out the door. 

~

Riyo flips on the lights in her apartment and tries to make herself breathe. She has kissed him hundreds of times at this point, she has seen him at his most vulnerable with all of his guards down. She has kissed all of his scars and whispered soft reassurances. But now, as their night comes to an end, she finds herself wringing her hands and staring at her carpet. 

“Riyo?” He asks, hovering just behind her. “Are you alright?” 

She turns around. “I’m terrified. Not- not of spending the night with you. I _want_ that more than anything, but… I’m terrified of what will come with the morning.”

He steps closer to her and takes her hands into his. “Everything will be just fine. Besides, if it isn’t, I know the prison like the back of my hand… I’ll just crawl through a vent shaft and escape or something.”

She snorts at the mental image of him trying to squeeze through a ventilation shaft. “And what, live your life as a fugitive?” 

“If it means giving everyone else a shot, then yeah.”

She steps closer and wraps her arms around his neck. “Tell me everything will be fine.”

“Everything is gonna be just fine,” he kisses the top of her head. 

“Tell me again,” she whispers. 

He starts slowly walking backwards into her room. “Everything will be fine.”

They stand at the door to her bedroom. “Are you ready?” She croaks. 

He nods. “Yes.”

They step into her room, holding hands. They both know there are cameras out there, but they try their best to ignore them. They need to seem happy and in love and honestly, it isn’t that hard of an act to put up. When Riyo starts to panic, he turns her away from the cameras - they can hear the clicking of pictures being taken - and starts humming _their_ song under his breath. They slow dance, her head pressed to his chest, until she calms down. Looking deep into each other's eyes they take a deep breath together, silently agreeing that this is their last hope for freedom. 

And they kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful for the 6000+ hits on this fic as well as the bookmarks, kudos, and subscriptions. I never once expected this fic to become so popular, so thank you for being so wonderful!


	15. Womprat Races

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Warnings:  
> 1\. Mentions of police brutality at the start of the chapter, tread carefully.  
> 2\. Thire has a bit of a panic attack - when he enters into Riyo's office skip to the next scene break if you want to avoid this.

Fox slips out of bed and Riyo groans at the absence of his warmth. “Where’re you going?” She grumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“It’s almost 0800. I need to get dressed,” he mutters, slipping on his boxers before leaning across the bed to kiss her deeply. 

That’s right. The Senate Guard would wait to make the arrest at 0800 - banking hours. None of them like working at night and would leave his arrest for first thing the next morning. She slips out of bed and tosses her silk nightgown over her head and grabs her matching robe from the hook in her bathroom. 

When she returns he is almost completely dressed. His undershirt is tucked in and his grey uniform jacket is on, but not properly clasped shut. His hair is deliciously tousled and he already has a shadow of a beard growing on his face. He slips on his boots and sighs, looking at her. “I guess we just have to wait,” he says. 

“Maybe they won’t arrest you,” she whispers, hopeful. 

“They are going to arrest me, I just violated a very important regulation.”

“Sit with me?” She motions to her couch and he obliges. 

She curls up at his side and breathes him in; he smells like her soap and something else that she has come to identify as just _Fox._ He runs his fingers through her hair and kisses the top of her head softly. 

“Promise me, Riyo, that no matter what happens you’ll stay strong, okay? The boys are going to need you if something happens to me.”

“I fear they may hate me if I fail,” she whispers. 

“No, they’ll hate me. I’m sure Thire is already bitching about having to take over command again.”

“Fox,” she murmurs. 

Someone outside pounds on her door. “Senator Chuchi, open up!” The senate guard bellows. With her heart plummeting into her stomach, she tightens her grip on Fox’s arm. 

“You might want to get that,” he murmurs against her ear. 

“Let them break down my door and pry you from my hands. I will _not_ leave you.” She tosses her leg over him and, taking his face into her hands, she kisses him. His hands roam up her back as he deepens the kiss, his mouth opening and welcoming her. The world around them disappears; the pounding on the door melts away into the thrumming of her blood through her veins. All she can feel is him, his hands caressing her, his warmth enveloping her. 

The door slams open. 

They jolt at the explosion, but do not separate. One of his hands grips her tighter and the other finds her hair at the nape of her neck. Her hands hold his face desperately and she kisses him harder. 

Not now, their time together cannot be ending so rapidly. 

“CC-1010!” 

A firm, hard hand grabs her shoulder and throws her off of Fox and into her coffee table. The glass shatters and she yelps as shards pierce her hand. 

Fox rockets up from the couch. “Don’t touch her!”

The Senate Guard grabs Fox by the collar and shoves him to the ground. He gets back up and shoves the Senate Guard. The Senate Guard slams the butt of his rifle into Fox’s temple and he crumples to the floor. 

“Don’t hurt him!” She shrieks. “He didn’t do anything wrong!” She crawls toward him and a Senate Guard uses his foot to push her away. 

“Stay back. He’s dangerous.”

“I love him,” she whimpers, reaching her hand out to Fox. 

His temple is bleeding and with unfocused eyes, he blinks a few times before reaching his hand out to her. Their fingertips are just about to brush when the Senate Guard snatches his wrists and twists his arms behind his back. 

“CC-1010, you are under arrest for improper fraternization with civilians.”

The Guard hauls him up by his bound hands and Fox looks to Riyo. A thousand promises and reassurances pass between them in that silent second before they are dragging him away. 

She clambers to her feet and chases after him. “Fox!” She cries. She can feel the tears streaming down her cheeks as she grabs his shirt collar and presses her lips to his one last time. “I love you.”

The Senate Guard shoves her away and Fox heaves his weight so that the Senate Guard hits the door frame. “Remember what I said,” he says, fighting against the guards. 

“I will,” she nods, following them to the door. 

“Stay back, ma’am,” one Guard says, stepping in front of her, prohibiting her from leaving her apartment. Having no hope of seeing over him, she crouches down to watch Fox get dragged to the lift. As they cram him inside, he looks over his shoulder and gives her his reassuring smirk and head nod - the same one he gave her when he planned to whisk her away to Pantora. 

The next thing she knows the Senate Guard who was blocking her way is now gone. She is alone. She falls to her knees, a sob escaping between her lips. Her neighbors have come out to see what is going on, an entire squad of Senate Guards _did_ just barge into her home and steal her best friend, her soulmate. 

“What have I done?” She sobs. 

~

“She better not need stitches,” Fox growls as the Senate Guards escort him to their transport. “You’ll be sorry if she does.”

“I’m sure we will.” The one holding his right elbow snorts. 

“You all are so fucking bad at your job that you managed to hurt not just a civilian, but a _Senator_ ,” Fox spits. “Coruscant Guard is never that sloppy.”

“Doesn’t matter, she’s nothing but a cheap whore anyway,” the one hold his left elbow says. 

Fox tries valiantly to blink away the red coloring his vision. The grip they are maintaining isn’t _that_ strong and he could easily bust free and decimate all of them in seconds. Falling to their deaths is the least likely to be pinned on him for murder and they are fairly close to the edge. 

“What’s going on here?” Commander Thire asks as he approaches, Lieutenant Puck and Sergeant Stride on his flanks. 

“We’re arresting your sack of shit commander for fraternizing with a Senator.”

Thire nods. “I see. Where, pray tell, are you taking him?”

“To the Coruscant prison.”

“Actually, regulation 119 states that any clone accused of breaking regulations must be held in a GAR facility until a court martial or decommissioning is decided.”

“We’re not going to take orders from _clones_.”

Thire shrugs. “So be it, but just know that the man you have in your arms right now is one of the highest ranked men in the GAR. He has been trained to kill with his bare hands and not sleep for five days. So, do you want him in _your_ prison where he will inevitably break loose, because let's be honest, you all pretty much suck at your jobs. _Or_ do you want him in _our_ prison, which is a max security facility, and if he breaks out it won’t be your asses on the line?”

The guards all share a look before Fox is shoved at Thire. 

“That’s what I thought,” Thire says before grabbing Fox’s shoulder and leading him in the direction of the GAR prison. “Fox, this is the stupidest fucking plan you have ever thought of.”

“I dunno about that,” Fox grumbles as they walk. “I once jumped off a building to grab a perp riding off on a speeder, if you happen to have forgotten.”

“Oh yes, let’s talk about the time where you gave me a stomach ulcer and grey hairs all within ten minutes.”

Fox shrugs. 

“Also, why are you covered in blood?”

“Fucking bastards shoved Riyo into her glass table. She’s probably going to need stitches.” He can’t stop thinking about her blood pooling in her palm, spilling over her ivory nightgown, and splattering on her new rug. She would probably care less about the rug, or her door, being ruined, but he hates the idea of her having to clean up after the wreckage caused by his ‘great’ idea. 

Thire’s grip tightens on Fox’s shoulder. “They did _what_?” 

“They shoved her into her coffee table. The glass shattered and some of it got lodged in her hands.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill ‘em.”

“Keep a lid on it, but if you don’t mind, could you check on her later?” He asks, hopeful. Maybe, if he can’t be there, his brothers will. They all love her so much. 

“Like you even have to ask. I’ll send an entire battalion to protect her if I have to,” Thire growls. 

~

Riyo hisses as Ilona wraps a bandage around her hand. “I can’t believe those waste-of-tax-payer-credits senate guards. The clones would _never_ hurt you like this.”

Riyo can only manage to nod as her friend synches the bandage too tightly around her hand and--

_Fox’s warm hands cradle hers as he ties the bandage around her hand. His legs frame hers, him sitting on the coffee table, her sitting on the couch. His brow is crinkled with worry, but his hands are gentle--_

“I’m sorry, what?” Riyo asks, fairly certain that this isn’t the first, or second, time Ilona has asked her question. 

“Your first interview is with Tora in two hours. What do you want to wear?” Ilona stands, packing up the medkit. 

“Nothing lavish. I need to relate to the people.”

“I think I have the perfect thing, then.”

Riyo opens her datapad and instantly wishes she hadn’t. 

_Clone Commander and Pantoran Senator caught KISSING?_

_Pantoran Senator and Clone Commander Get Physical_

_A Provocative Pantoran Click for Images_

_Clones can KISS._

“Riyo, turn that off,” Ilona snatches the datapad from her hands. “That will do nothing to ease your mind.” She takes the datapad with her when she swooshes into the bedroom to pick out Riyo’s wardrobe, leaving Riyo on the couch with nothing but her thoughts. 

None of them are very positive, either. 

~

The dress is a simple number. It is full length with long sleeves and _almost_ looks like a dress of mourning. However, when she combines it with her simple gold crescent moon clip and the fire raging within her, it looks more like the gown of a woman scorned and ready to catch the galaxy ablaze. 

It’s perfect. 

Lieutenant Puck arrives to pick them up fifteen minute early with a security detail. When they hatched this plan, security had been Fox’s idea and the increased amount had been Thire’s after he found out about the way the Senate Guard treated her.

Now, with a four-trooper escort, they make their way to Tora’s studio. Puck leads the way, walking directly in front of her. Two troopers, Stride and Nix, flank them and Ash brings up the rear. 

Ilona walks beside Riyo, arm in arm, and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. Riyo’s stomach churns with a volatile mixture of fear and unbridled rage; she keeps repeating her mantra to herself: _thirty seconds of courage, thirty seconds_. 

But she feels well past thirty seconds. 

She feels like she just needs to _be_ courageous. 

As she walks into the studio, various people with headsets and datapads flurry around, and she tries to channel her inner Fox. He is the bravest person she knows. He jumps in front of blaster bolts to save people who will never thank him and he loves with his _entire_ heart even when it’s forbidden. 

He said once that he fears nothing and she is almost certain that was the truth. She has never seen him cower, never once seen him flinch in the face of something dangerous. She _can_ do this. 

“Senator Chuchi!” Tora comes up to her and kisses both sides of her face. In typical Tora fashion, she is wearing vibrant turquoise, turquoise body glitter and turquoise ribbons wrapped around her deep purple lekku. “I cannot _believe_ the news this morning and I am so _ready_ for this interview.”

“Thank you,” Riyo gives her a subtle nod. “I only have a few requests if I may.”

“Of course,” Tora grins. “I’m here to help you help our boys. Whatever you need, ask.”

“Please don’t ask me about the details of Fox and I’s relationship; I’d like to spare him as much as possible.”

Tora clucks disapprovingly. “I must ask some details, how else will we sell it?”

Riyo’s throat goes dry. “Sell it?”

She, of course, knew that personal details were going to be involved at some point when they started this, but she is suddenly horrified at the thought of headlines objectifying Fox. It is simple. Sex sells. But this was about making him seem more human, not a sex symbol for the galaxy to fantasize about. 

“Okay,” Riyo nods. “Just nothing about our _physical_ relationship.” 

Tora winks, “You’re secrets are safe with me, baby.”

~

“I’m coming to you _live_ with Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora. Yes, you know, the one who was caught red-handed with a Clone Commander,” Tora smiles into the camera. The lights are blinding and Riyo is starting to regret the dark color and long sleeves. “So, Riyo,” Tora swivels to her with a smile that can only be described as predatory. “A Clone Commander, huh?”

Riyo blushes. “His name is Fox,” she says, genuinely at a loss as to how to answer that question. 

“How did you and Commander Foxy meet?”

Riyo forces a smile at the joke but internally groans. Fox is never, _ever_ going to forgive her for that nickname. “It’s… actually a pretty interesting story.”

So she starts at the beginning. She tells the audience about when she arrived on Coruscant almost a year ago, she had been utterly petrified of clones; could hardly look at him in his helmet and forced herself to shake his hand. Slowly, she would talk to him in the halls and he was _always_ nice, which was far less than what she could say for the Senate Guard - she had made sure to draw attention to her bandaged hand at that comment. And she tells them about the moment she realized clones are _human_. 

“It’s almost tragic that I didn’t realize it sooner,” Riyo explains. “But when I rounded the corner, I saw him bleeding. He was propped up against the wall, barely coherent. Tora, he was dying before my very eyes. I used my belt as a tourniquet and called for a medevac.”

“That must have been _terrifying_ ,” Tora leans forward, as if she is hanging from Riyo’s every word. Maybe she is, Riyo has never been good at discerning truth from lies in a political arena - she doubts public television is any different. 

“Not quite as terrifying as almost being assaulted or the death threats I’ve been receiving, but yes, it was scary.” 

“We’re going to circle back to that,” Tora states. “But I want to hear more about _Fox_. What is he like?”

“He is the most selfless man I have ever had the privilege of meeting,” Riyo confesses and she feels tears welling in her eyes. “He devotes himself to the Republic every day, yet our people cannot find it within their hearts to treat him with kindness. We recently proved his sentiency, something I have long since known, but he is still viewed as nothing more… nothing more than a droid to be owned. It _sickens_ me that a _man_ who can love his brothers so fiercely… who can love _me_ , someone who had hundreds of misconceptions about his people, so ardently can be _owned_.” The tears welling up in her eyes spill over. “I’m sorry,” she laughs wetly. “I’m just very passionate about this.”

“That’s okay, we’ll take a quick break,” she smiles. “More about Clone Commander Fox when we return.”

Tora turns to her and offers a tissue. “You’re doing great, hon. There’s not a dry eye, I bet.”

Riyo laughs into the tissue. “He was arrested this morning. They’re going to execute him if we aren’t successful in convincing people to support a new bill.”

“Then we better start rallying some god-damned masses.” 

~

Fox paces back and forth across his cell. He had always thought these cells were unfairly large, his office is smaller than this, but now he feels _cramped_. He has no comm or datapad or connection to the outside, which is _technically_ good. He would want to have his men treat him no other way, but damn it, he needs to know what is going on. He needs to know _something_. 

He is used to being in charge of _everything_. He has his thumb on the pulse of Coruscant. If one di’kut steps out of line, Fox knows. Even when he was on Pantora, he knew what was going on and he had means to access information if he didn’t. 

Now, he has nothing and it is stressing him out. 

The rayshield powers down and Yeah-yeah steps down into the cell holding a tray of ration mush. “I brought you some, uh, lunch, sir,” he says. 

“Thanks, Yeah-yeah. How are things looking out there?”

“No riots yet, but we’re taking precautions after Senator Chuchi’s speech, sir.”

“What speech? What’d she say?” Fox rises, setting the tray aside on his mattress-less cot. 

“I can’t describe it, sir… Yeah, it was incredible. You’re a lucky man, sir.”

Fox exhales. “Inflammatory?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah, she put Senator Amidala and Organa to shame.”

Fox smiles. “Thanks, Yeah-yeah. Get out of here before Thire makes you clean the latrines or something.”

As Yeah-yeah is exiting he looks over his shoulder and says, “I hope this blows over soon, sir. We thought you looked stressed all the time, Thire looks like he is about to have a stroke.” 

~

The CRC plans to introduce their proposal tomorrow. The people are getting vocal and peacefully protesting. Everytime a squad of troopers gets called out to handle a riot, all of the rioters kneel and refuse to hurt the clones. Across the galaxy, civilians are coming to the clones stationed there with care packages and bowing or kneeling as a sign of respect. Images of clones beaming as they unwrap the packages are going viral, along with videos of them trying new things. One particularly hilarious video - mostly because she had witnessed something similar first hand - was of a clone from the 212th eating Rylothian peppers only to turn bright red and start sputtering before the clone behind the camera starts cackling and running. 

The displays of kindness are truly amazing, though. Riyo has never seen such acts of solidarity among people who have nothing in common except for their thirst for justice. 

“Riyo,” Ilona comes into her office. “There is a Commander… Thire? Here to see you. Should I send him in?”

“Of course,” Riyo stands, organizing her datapads before the commander enters. 

Thire storms into her office, closing the door behind him. “Senator Chuchi, I must respectfully ask what in the _fuck_ is taking you Senators so long. If I spend _one more day_ as fucking Marshal Commander of fucking Coruscant I’m going to lose my damn decanted mind!” 

Wide-eyed, Riyo stares at the winded commander, his chest heaves with exertion, and his helmet tilts down as he realizes he just yelled at a senator. “We plan to introduce the legislation tomorrow. We wanted to wait and see if the people would start pressuring their representatives and it looks like they have.”

Thire falls into the chair and removes his helmet. Unlike Fox, he keeps his hair longer on the top, though his military mustache looks like it has seen better days. His cheeks are covered in stubble and his eyes are underlined with dark purple bags. “I can’t do this without him, ma’am,” he wheezes. 

Riyo rounds her desk and kneels in front of him. “Thire, are you alright?”

He shakes his head, but keeps his lips pressed in a thin line. “No,” he exhales shakily, keeping his head in his hands. 

“What can I do to help?” She asks. She knows that she actually has very little ability to help with his duty, but maybe, _maybe_ there is something. 

He looks up at her with tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t do this without _him_ ,” he repeats. “Even when you both were away, Fox was able to help me out with things. He’s my best friend. We served on Geonosis together - I’ve never known service without Fox as my CO. And-and morale was good because we knew he was with you and getting some much deserved time off. Now, _now_ ,” he exhales shakily. “Now he’s in a fucking prison cell and we can’t talk to him because it’s against the regs and things aren’t looking hot.”

“We haven’t even introduced the bill yet,” she reassures, resting a hand on his knee. “Just try to stay hopeful. Can I help you with anything?”

“Make the Chancellor regret every saying that we are slaves of the Republic, ma’am.” He rises and straightens his kama. “I’m sorry for busting in here like this… I was losing my cool.” 

“Will you stay for a cup of tea?” She offers. 

Thire shifts his weight between his feet. “Actually, I really need to get back to the CG office and start doing some riot prep.”

“Very well. Be safe and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything from me.”

~

Fox crunches up into his fiftieth sit-up. He is restless. That much is simple. He can’t focus, he can’t think, he can’t sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, all he sees are the sterile walls of the medbay and he wakes just as the needle pierces his neck. 

So, he is trying to wear himself out. 

The rayshield dissipates and Stone comes in with a change of clothes and a ration bar. “Thought I’d give you something fresh to wear, sir.” 

Fox stands. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He unwraps the bar, expecting Stone to leave. “Everything alright?” He asks, when Stone lingers by the door. 

“I dunno, sir. They haven’t introduced the legislation and, uh, the people are getting restless. Riots are breaking out.”

“What are they asking for?” Fox asks. 

“Your freedom, sir. But, we know how riots tend to do the exact opposite of what they try to do.”

Fox nods sagely. “Try to stay positive. Let the boys know that everything is going to be alright.”

Stone nods. “I’ll try, sir.”

~

The CRC committee members lower themselves into the Rotunda. Riyo’s heart pounds so heavily in her chest that she can hardly breathe. If she fails at this, Fox will be sent to a trial for a court-martial - or at least that is what Fema said. They already planned for it, just in case. They have had their bill vetoed by Chancellor Palpatine once before, they aren’t going to let anything catch them off guard again. So, during their preparation for this step Fema had stayed up for days, reading all of the fine print of the GAR regulations and plotting what would happen next for him. Worst case scenario, she will work with him to create a defense, best case he is let go. 

There is no room for failure. 

“Welcome back CRC, you may begin your opening statement,” Chancellor Palpatine sighs, already dismissing them. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Riyo begins with not an inkling of apprehension in her voice. “Today we are presenting to you a proposal to defund the GAR and move it to volunteer only. Based on the Chancellor’s prior executive order we currently have an army of sentient slaves. This is _unacceptable_. There is no other word for it. In our quest to rid the galaxy of the Separatist villainy we have stooped to their level of repugnance. Ask yourself, do you want to be responsible for the death and slavery of millions of men? If you do, then feel free to vote against this proposal. And while you’re at it, perhaps you should join the Separatists.” 

The Rotunda erupts. Chancellor Palpatine calls them to order, “We will adjourn to consider the proposal.”

Senator Palu moves his pod down to the center of the Rotunda. “With due respect, Chancellor, I move for an immediate vote. If someone has to think hard on their position of slavery, then they don’t deserve their seat in the house of the Republic.”

The Rotunda explodes once more. 

“CRC do you approve of an immediate vote?” Chancellor Palpatine asks after he has silenced the hall. 

Interchanging quick glances they all nod, one at a time, to Riyo. 

She turns and addresses the Rotunda. “We support the movement for an immediate vote.”

The votes pour in and within fifteen minutes it is tallied. 

Ninety percent in favor of defunding the GAR. The overwhelming majority makes Riyo feel like she is soaring through the clouds. She did it. She actually did it. Fox will be free and his brothers will have rights and--

“As Supreme Chancellor, I’m afraid I cannot approve this decision or bill. We are at war, my friends, a war with people who want to kill the very democracy we know and love. Times are hard, I know, but we must continue to make sacrifices - even some that at first glance go against our moral code. But if we were to move forward with this proposition, we would be left defenseless and our democracy would be destroyed. I vow, upon my position, that I will defund the GAR as soon as the war is won, but what other choice do we have?” 

The roar of dissent causes Riyo’s bones to vibrate. 

_What?_

“If you are to reject this proposition,” Senator Palu booms. “Then I move for a public trial for Clone Commander Fox who is guilty of nothing but being a man in love.”

The Chancellor looks visibly perturbed by the senator’s movement. “Very well, let us have a vote. Who here votes in favor of a public hearing for CC-1010?”

The votes roll in with an eighty percent majority - Fox should receive a fair and public hearing, unlike the usually private military trials. 

She falls into her chair as the pod returns and Fema rushes off to the prison. 

~

The rayshield powers down and Fox looks up from his boots. “Senator Baab,” he says, standing. “Is everything alright?”

Her face doesn’t even crack a smile in greeting as she charges in and sets her briefcase on the cot. “No, we’re preparing your defense.”

“My defense?” He says. “For-for what?” 

“The bill didn’t pass,” she grumbles pulling out a datapad. 

His stomach plummets to his knees. “It _what_?” He had been so sure, so positive that it was going to pass. People were rioting in the streets for his men, for _him_. 

“It didn’t pass,” she repeats. 

“I-I thought for sure it would have,” he stammers, fear truly sinking in for the first time. Maybe it was cocky bravado before, but he had been confident that this was it. This was their proverbial ticket to freedom. 

“Well it did,” she begins, her face crinkling with despair. “But the _supreme_ _chancellor_ ,” she spits his title, “vetoed it with an ‘executive order’. He said that it would leave us defenseless. That war calls for hard decisions and sacrifices.”

Well, Fox can’t say the Chancellor is wrong on that point. He had made several hard decisions before and he knows Cody keeps himself up at night replaying certain decisions in his head. Stars know they have all sacrificed enough. 

“So,” she continues after he has remained silent, “the CRC is hitting the drawing board and I have volunteered my services as your defense attorney for your upcoming hearing.”

“Hearing?” For once everything is moving too fast and he can hardly keep up. “We-we don’t get public trials, just court-martialed or decommissioned.”

“Well, after the stunt the Chancellor just pulled, the Senate has demanded a public trial for you, it was an 80% majority.”

He blinks. “So, why did you volunteer?” If anyone were going to come to his defense, he would expect Riyo or at the very least Senator Amidala.

Fema looks up from her datapad and into his eyes for the first time since entering. If he is being honest, he never knew _why_ she had volunteered to be part of the CRC. He had always been leery of her, waiting for her to betray them and feed information to the other side. She had been downright vile to him and his men and during any committee meeting, she always tip-toed around him like he was a bomb ready to detonate. 

“I have two law degrees, one intergalactic law and another in law from my home sector. However, in both of them I specialized in defense. I’m your best chance at getting out here with your head still on your shoulders.” Tentatively she reaches over and rests a hand on his forearm. Even though he had plenty of time to move away from her - and ultimately decided against it - he still finches when she gently touches him. “And, I think that maybe this is the only thing I can do to make up for the harm I have caused both you and your men. After all this time, I have never apologized to you for my behavior. I want to say, from the bottom of my heart, I am _sorry_ and I will do everything in my power to make this right. Like you have had ours, I will have your back until the very end of this, Commander.”

He blinks a few times. “I… thank you, Senator.”

She pats his arm. “No need to thank me. And it’s Fema. If you are comfortable with it, I believe we can be on a first name basis.” 

He nods. “Of course.” It almost kills him to say the next words, but he thinks they may be well-earned. “We’re friends.”

Her eyes widen with shock and then fill with tears. Before any can overflow and cause him a great deal of panic, she clears her throat and blinks them back. “Then let’s get to work.”

~

Everyone but Fema gathers in the CRC chamber. “I can’t believe this. We have become a dictatorship. When did this happen?” Padmé exclaims as they all gather around the table, numb. 

They have failed. What had seemed like a brilliant plan for the salvation of a race of men has now become a death sentence for one of them. They did this. They have killed Fox. Riyo knows that she should be panicking at this realization, but instead she is scouring her brain for a solution - any solution. 

“What if we proposed a vote of no confidence?” She asks, suddenly. That was how Chancellor Valorum, the chancellor before Palpatine, was deposed. Like her father had said, Palpatine had taken power without ever truly running a fair election. She sees now, with perfect clarity, that this man never intended on returning said power to the people once he had it. 

Everyone falls silent as they consider it. “We… we would need to back someone,” Mothma murmurs. “We can’t propose this without the backing of another candidate.”

“It can’t be me,” Padmé says, reading the room as everyone slowly looked to her. “There is no way we would win the vote. Chancellor Palpatine is also from Naboo, they would see it as exchanging one evil for another - a Nabooian tyranny.”

They all fall silent once more as they consider their options. It would need to be someone fair, someone who speaks well, someone from a core world.

“What about you, Bail?” Padmé suggests. 

He opens his mouth, but closes it again with a nod. “If you all feel that I am capable, then I am more than willing. We must rid ourselves of Palpatine’s tyranny.”

~ 

Wise powers down the rayshield and steps in, giving Fox a comb and a razor. 

“What’s this for?” Fox asks. 

“The Chancellor is here to see you, sir. I thought that you would want to clean up.”

“Oh, thanks.” His heart starts racing. He would never say that he and Palpatine were friends, but he has always worked closely with the cranky old blerg. Maybe, just maybe, he is here to tell him that he plans to pardon him. 

However, his gut is screaming at him that this is not the case. His gut is instead screaming at him to run, punch Wise in the head hard enough that he will have an excuse for letting him escape, and make like some kids caught graffiting Republic propaganda and fucking _split_. 

But he made this bed and he will lay in it. 

When he finishes shaving, he hands the razor and comb back to Wise.

“I’ll tell Stone you’re ready, sir.”

Fox nods and swallows down his fear. He feels like he is getting ready to face the firing squad. 

Stone arrives with the Chancellor and Fox snaps to attention. Even if he is just in his blacks, there is no sense in being disrespectful. “Chancellor, sir.”

“You may leave us,” the Chancellor says to Stone with a wave of his arthritic hand. 

Stone hesitates because this is the _fucking Chancellor_ , but regulations state that a prisoner should never be left alone with a visitor. Fox catches his eye and gives him a nod - a nod that normally means he’ll take the fall if the regs come back and bite one of his troopers, but now… Well, his head is already on the chopping block. 

“This is a pleasant surprise, sir,” Fox says, keeping his back straight and his shoulders squared. 

The Chancellor only hums in response. “It’s rather unfortunate what is happening, my boy.” He paces in front of Fox, keeping his hands steepled in front of him. 

Fox’s heart picks up again, pounding out a rhythm that sounds terribly like _hope_. 

“But I’m afraid that your… friends’ valiant efforts to provide you with a trial will, unfortunately, be thwarted.”

“Sir?” He croaks. His heart plummets to his knees. 

“You are to be decommissioned first thing tomorrow morning.”

“But, sir,” Fox protests, “I have the right to a fair trial.”

“That is not true. You have no rights.”

Fox sputters. That is _technically_ true, but he is sentient. That has been declared. The Senate ruled for him to have a fair trial. He can’t just be decommissioned without a second opinion. 

“Your friends are trying, as we speak, to declare no confidence in me as a ruler, but they can’t see the full picture… too small-minded. I have already won. I have the galaxy at my fingertips. I control everything, the senate, the GAR. You and your friends are just one pesky spark that will be snuffed like everyone else who desires to be _righteous_ ,” he spits the word. 

The icy cold fear that has been dripping into Fox’s gut turns to molten lava. Palpatine can do whatever he wants to _him_ , but if he touches Riyo or Padmé or Fema or any other Senator who has given a damn, Fox will crawl tooth and nail back to the land of the living just to kick his wrinkly ass. 

“You see, everyone in the galaxy has a place where they belong, a role that they must fill and you, my boy, are just a clone. You are not a man and you are _defective_.” 

Fox can feel Ro slapping his back, calling him ‘son’ and he has never been more disgusted with Palpatine’s pet name for him. “My name is _Fox_ and I am _not_ defective. I am a _man_.” Fox steps up. “And you haven’t won because the people are not on your side.”

“You should be careful what you say, my boy.”

“I am not scared of you,” Fox growls. 

“You should be.” With arthritic fingers, Palpatine grabs Fox’s forehead before he has the reaction time to reel back or punch the ugly son of a bantha. “Sleep.”

Fox crumbles to the floor. 

~

Riyo’s pod floats down into the Rotunda. “After several displays of misconduct, I propose a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Palpatine,” she announces to the auditorium. “We have proposed bill after bill only to have them vetoed by a man who has no right to hold his position for as long as he has. We are no longer a democracy. We are a dictatorship.”

The Rotunda fills with cheers and Riyo allows herself a spark of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've ~officially~ decided that this fic will have 17 chapters. The next chapter to conclude the fic and the final chapter as an epilogue of sorts.


	16. Courageous Acts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader warning: there are some high intensity medbay scenes sprinkled throughout the chapter, if this is a concern be certain to tread carefully through the Fox POV section.

Senator Bail Organa is proclaimed the new Chancellor of the Republic by a seventy percent vote. Coruscant goes wild. The protestors in the street cheer and kiss each other as well as the buckets of troopers guarding them, much to their surprise. For once it feels like there has been _progress_. The Chancellor has been voted from office and Riyo, Bail, a squad of troopers, and two Jedi - Generals Fisto and Windu - are currently making their way to break the news to him. 

He must leave office at once, or he will be forcefully removed by these two wonderful Jedi. 

Commander Thire swipes the access card and the Chancellor’s door opens. Palpatine stands behind his desk, staring out the window. 

“Chancellor, the senate has declared no confidence in you,” Riyo says, leading the pack. Bail stands behind her, the two Jedi flank them and their squad of troopers loom behind them, a menacing wall of red. 

Slowly, he turns around and glares at her. “I am the Senate,” he spits.

“If you do not vacate the office right now, we will have no choice to remove you forcefully,” she states, squaring her shoulders. This is for Fox. For all the times this cretin mistreated him. 

“No,” he growls. 

General Windu steps up beside her, his hand resting threateningly upon his lightsaber. “Your reign has ended, Chancellor.” 

Everything happens so fast. The Chancellor ignites a crimson blade and lunges for General Windu. Riyo is shoved to the ground. Bail falls on top of her and the troops behind them are suddenly in front of them, blasters at the ready. General Fisto falls after being struck by Palpatine and Thire puts himself between them and the dueling Windu and Palpatine. “Hold your fire!” He orders. “Puck! Stride! Get the Senators outta here!”

“Yessir!” Puck bends down and hauls them both to their feet before pushing them at the Sergeant. “Stride! Go, go, go! I’ll cover you!” 

Stride shoves them out the door with Puck following close behind. The last thing she sees before the door whirls shut is the window of his office exploding into a million crystal shards.

“Come on, we have to take you to a safe house,” Puck pants. He readjusts his hold on his blaster rifle and motions for them to follow him. They hurry down the halls, not quite a jog for the men, but Riyo is lifting up the front of her long skirt to make sure she doesn’t trip over it at the rushed pace. 

A Senate Guard at the exit steps in their way as they approach. “What is going on here?” He asks. 

“I’m escorting these senators to a safe house,” Puck answers smoothly. 

“Wait, isn’t that Senator Organa?” The Guard points to Bail. Electric energy pulses in the air. Bail nods, confirming his identity, the Senate Guard raises his blaster at him, and Puck tackles the Senate Guard as his blaster discharges. 

“Puck!” Stride cries, taking a half-step towards his best friend, clearly torn between guarding them or helping Puck. 

“Go!” Puck growls, wrestling with the Senate Guard. “Go! Don’t trust the Senate Guards! They’re on Palpatine’s payroll!”

Stride hesitates for just a moment before he sees more Senate Guards start to take notice of the altercation. “Come on, with me!” He takes off and Bail and Riyo follow, casting a worried glance over their shoulders at the Lieutenant still fighting with the Senate Guard on the ground. 

~

They scramble into the safe house and Stride seals the door behind them. “Make yourselves comfortable, we will probably be here for a while,” he says. 

Behind her, Bail collapses into the durasteel chair at the kitchen table and puts his head in his hands. The silence is heavy as they realize what has just transpired before their eyes. Chancellor Palpatine is a sith lord. Their Republic has been at the disposal of an evil force for far too long and they all let it happen. 

And if that isn’t bad enough, they just let too many good men sacrifice themselves for their escape. The Generals, Commander Thire, the squad of troopers.

Riyo watches Stride as grips his right vambrace and squeezes. She remembers, from their painting party, how he and Puck had planned to switch vambraces. Looking at it now, she sees how the pattern is different from that of his left. Carefully, she steps up to the trooper. “Stride, are you alright?”

He shakes his head wordlessly. 

“Everything will be okay,” she whispers. 

“I…” His voice sounds strangled through his helmet comm. “I know that we’re supposed to be replaceable, but,” he hiccups. “He isn’t replaceable to _me_.”

She pulls him into a hug and rests her head on his plastoid-covered chest. “I know, Stride. I know. You aren’t replaceable. No one is.”

He hiccups again and takes a deep breath. “Thank you, Senator.”

She gives him a tight squeeze and pulls away. “Please, just Riyo.” 

He nods limply before pulling away and straightening. “We’ll have to wait here until Thire gives us the ‘okay’.”

“How long will that take?” Riyo questions. They are on a tight schedule. The sooner Bail is sworn in, the sooner he can sign the pardon and the sooner Fox will be set free without the Kaminoans pulling a dirty trick. 

Stride shrugs. “I don’t know. Normally Fox comes by within the hour… but with Fox in the slammer and Thire battling a dar’jetti and Stone monitoring the prison and Thorn running standard ops… I dunno who is gonna come for us.”

“We can’t stay here, Stride,” she says. “We _have_ to swear in Senator Organa as the new Chancellor so that we can pardon Fox.” 

Stride shifts his weight. “I can’t make that call.”

“Why not?”

“I-I’m just a Sergeant.”

“What would Fox do?” She whispers. 

“He… he would take you to the hall, but I’m only one clone. I can’t protect you both.”

“We’re both perfectly capable of carrying our own blasters,” she argues. 

He shifts his weight. “Dammit. You know, there was talk about how convincing you can be, but I never expected to be on the receiving end,” he sighs as he stalks into the living room and up to a cabinet. “You could convince Dooku himself to surrender.”

“We’ll see,” she chuckles breathlessly. 

He types in a code on the cabinet and several GAR-issued weapons are revealed. “What are you both comfortable with carrying?” 

“Rifle,” Riyo says. 

“Pistol,” Bail answers, his head still in his hands. 

“You okay?” She asks him, resting her hand on his shoulder. 

“I just don’t know how we have been so blind. Palpatine was never on the Republic’s side. For all we know, this war was fabricated entirely to push him into power.”

“Governmental control is best held through exploitation of fear,” she whispers. “Our fear blinded us.”

Bail stands and takes the pistol from Stride. “I am no longer afraid.”

“Nor am I,” she says, accepting her rifle. 

“Well Senators, where to?” Stride asks, reloading his rifle’s charge pack. 

~

Fox jerks awake as a clamp snaps down over his wrist. The dim fluorescents of his cell sting his eyes and he looks to his left. 

Nala Se, a Kaminoan scientist. 

Everything slams back to him. Palpatine is a sith. The fucking Chancellor has been playing both sides since the beginning. He needs to warn someone. Thire. Riyo. 

Fuck. 

“Do you really need to restrain him like that?” Stone asks from the doorway. 

Stone. Thank the fucking stars. 

“Stone! Palpatine--” His words die in his throat as the tranquilizer hits his carotid artery in his neck. 

The world swoops dramatically. 

“Palpatine?” Stone asks, following the scientists down the hall as they cart the commander off to his impending decommissioning. 

“That is none of your business CC-5869,” the long neck sneers. Everything sounds so far away as if everyone is far down one of the prison’s corridors. 

“Fox, what were you going to say? Is Palpatine in trouble? Fox!” 

His mind feels like it is wading through sludge - like that one time he had to wade through a trash compactor to retrieve a dead body. What was he saying? 

Oh hey, Stone is here. That’s pretty neat. He needs to shave, his head isn’t shiny like it normally is. 

Shinies. Fox should be grateful he has such a great group of kids under his command. Being stationed here sucks, but they’re making the best of it. Even if they are costing that wrinkly bastard more credits by constantly hocking their scanners. 

Wait… there was something about Palpatine. 

Palpatine?

Pal-pa-tine.

Palp-a-tine.

Palp. 

Palps. Ha. What a name. 

Everything goes black. 

~

Stride takes them through a series of lifts and tunnels utilized mostly by droids and service personnel. He seems to know where he is going, but she considered herself hopelessly lost after their first series of twists and turns. 

They step into a lift and Stride takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling drastically. “This leads up to the third floor of the Senate Hall. That should take us to Justice Vorru. She will be able to swear him in, right?” 

They nod. “Good thinking, Stride.”

Stride nods and presses the button to take them up. “Guess I learned something during all those meetings I guarded.”

They exit the lift, Stride taking point, blaster at the ready. Luckily, no Senate Guards had been patrolling the floor. 

She supposes it's a good thing they are infinitely worse at their job than the Corrie Guard. 

When they reach Justice Vorru’s chamber Riyo knocks politely, even though every cell in her body is begging her to beat down the door and demand the Justice to swear in Bail right this second. 

“Senator Chuchi, Chancellor-Elect Organa, what can I do for you this morning?” She asks, stepping aside to welcome them into her office. Justice Vorru is an interesting woman, Riyo has always admired her in a way. She is stern and speaks her mind and _always_ puts the Republic before her own beliefs. She _is_ liberty for the Republic. The elderly woman stands hardly taller than Riyo, but keeps her white hair combed back in a harsh bun, exemplifying the aquiline quality of her nose. 

“We were hoping you could swear in the Chancellor-Elect,” Riyo states, cutting right to the point. 

Vorru peers over the rim of her glasses. “And were you going to force me to do so at blaster point?”

“No, ma’am!” Riyo blurts. “There… well, it is a long story, but trust us when we say that this is an urgent matter!”

“I believe I have time. I don’t make decisions based on ‘urgency’. Your procrastination is not my emergency.” She sits, folding her hands neatly on top of her desk.

“Ma’am,” Stride steps up, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. “Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord. My best friend may have died to give us the opportunity to flee and I’m risking my own life being here, guarding these two so they can save the Republic and what is left of my family along with it.”

Vorru’s mouth falls open. “What’s your designation, trooper?” 

“CT-7891, ma’am.”

She nods and steps around from her desk. “Well, CT-7891, I would love to swear in Chancellor-Elect Organa, but the law clearly states there needs to be at least _two_ witnesses.”

“But there are two witnesses,” Bail interjects. “Senator Chuchi and Sergeant Stride.”

“But, he is a clone.”

“He is a sentient man - the clone sentiency bill declared such,” Bail argues. 

Vorru’s jaw drops. “You… you are right. Well then. Rising, she turns and grabs the crest of the Republic from her datapad shelf. “I suppose we have everything we need.”

~

He is being pushed down a long white hallway. This is a nightmare. He has to be dreaming. He is going to wake up and be in Riyo’s arms and everything will be fine. He just needs to wake up. 

He bites his own tongue and is horrified that he doesn’t wake. 

So this isn’t a dream. 

He needs to tell _someone_ about Chancellor Palpatine. Everyone is counting on him. He cannot just _die_ with information that can save his family. He just needs to think of a plan. It’s just… his brain is so foggy. 

He focuses on what is solid. 

He is on a table. His wrists and ankles are strapped down. Decommissioning is considered… what is it? It’s a procedure that requires lots of clean things. 

Surgical. That’s the word. 

Decommissioning is a surgical procedure. So… 

_Fuck_. His brain feels like it is wading through sludge. His thoughts are murky. 

Riyo. He has to save her. Palpatine is a sith. 

Doing his best to keep his face looking neutrally _asleep_ , so that he can maintain the element of surprise, he continues planning. 

Decommissioning is a surgical procedure and will require sterile instruments and, therefore, a new bed. They will have to put him on a sterile operating table, which means they will have to undo the straps restraining him. 

He just… didn’t get a good look to see how many troopers they have and how armed they are. He imagines it can’t be more than three, if they have any at all. They probably won’t have any in the operating room. 

No, it will be one scientist, one assistant, and probably two troopers stationed outside of the door. He will wait until they undo _all_ of the straps, kick, or punch depending on location, the scientist in the gut to get distance. Leap from the table. Subdue the other scientist. Step out of the room, subdue the two undoubtedly shinies waiting out there. Make a break for it. Tell the senators who the Chancellor really is. 

Sounds easy enough. He is a command clone. A marshal fucking commander. 

The Kaminoans have no idea what hell they are about to break loose. 

~

Riyo signs the witness form and slides it to Stride. He picks up the pen and hesitates. “What’s wrong?” Riyo asks. 

“Should… Should I sign my name or number?” He looks over to her. He has removed his helmet and it is painfully clear how young he is - barely twenty at most. 

Justice Vorru is the one who steps in to answer. “Your name - no man has a number.” 

Nodding, he signs the paper. 

“You know, after the war Stride, you should consider becoming a lawyer,” Vorru smiles. “You’re rather skilled at making your point and convincing others to see the same way.”

“I uh, thank you ma’am.” Stride nods, a blush rising to his cheeks. 

Everyone turns to the newly sworn in Chancellor Bail Organa. The title suits him. His dark purple and grey robes have been straightened since their skirmish and his dark hair is combed to perfection. 

“Well, Chancellor, what will be your first act as the leader of the Republic?” Justice Vorru asks, folding her arms into her robe. 

“I do believe there is a commander who needs a pardon,” Bail smiles. 

~

Keeping his eyes shut, Fox listens as the Kaminoans type in the code to the operating room. The door hisses open and his cart is pushed inside. 

“Do you think his defect was caused by a failure with the inhibitor chip?” The assistant asks. He suppresses a shiver down his spine. He hates the way their voices sound - but what the hell is an inhibitor chip?

No. Not the time or place. Focus on the big issue, Palpatine is a sith lord. 

“It’s possible. But it will be best to scrap everything and replace the chip, just in case,” Nala Se answers. 

They start at his feet. He keeps everything limp as the scientist unbuckles his other ankle. They unclip his right hand, then his left. Fox jerks awake. He punches Nala Se in the gut, causing her to lose her balance and topple over. 

“Stop him!” She yells from the floor. 

Lucky for him, Kaminoans don’t move very fast. Their long, gangly limbs guarantee a slow, almost serene movement if they weren’t so creepy. As the assistant advances, Fox shoves the hover-table into him causing him to join Nala Se on the floor. “Someone stop him!” They cry. 

Fox steps into the hall, grabbing the rifle of the trooper waiting there and slamming the butt of it into the trooper's head. Quickly, effortlessly, Fox switches the blaster to stun and stuns the other trooper standing guard.

The world swoops dramatically and Fox leans against the wall to steady himself and take a breath. The tranq must have been stronger than he thought. 

No alarms blaring yet. He needs an exit and fast before they do. He hesitates only for a moment, thinking about what to do with the scientists. Stun rounds don’t work on Kaminoans, they designed them that way. His best bet is to get out as soon as possible.

Taking off at a jog, the world pitches once more as he stumbles into the wall. He stands there, peering down the hall and watching as it nauseatingly swoops from side to side. Okay, so maybe the tranq is still functioning in his system. Either way, he needs to keep moving. 

Door. He needs a door.

Keeping one hand on the wall to maintain his balance and his other firmly on his blaster, he stumbles down the hall as quickly as he can, wearing just his blacks and socks. He probably should have stolen the shiny’s armor back there, but he couldn’t bring himself to put on another brother’s armor. 

He is barely coping with the fact that he just had to stun one. 

_Focus_. 

He turns the corner only to be met with a squad of troopers. “Get ‘em!” One shouts and Fox takes off in the other direction, heedless of his swooping vision. He just needs to make it to a door, any door. 

A window would work. Skidding to a halt, he switches the blaster back and shoots out the transparisteel with three quick trigger pulls. It shatters and falls countless stories below. 

He slips out the window, careful not to cut himself on the remaining shards and goes to use the standard issue grappling hook connected to the blaster. 

It isn’t there. 

“Fucking Kaminoan shiny not fucking prepared,” he growls under his breath and tries to quickly think of his next move. He is about fifteen stories high, definitely wouldn’t survive if he jumped. He looks up, he might be able to jump and grab the next window sill. 

“Freeze,” a trooper from the squad stands at the busted window, blaster aimed at Fox’s chest. “Drop the blaster and step away from the edge.”

Fox drops the blaster, letting it clatter to the ground below, and puts his hands in the air. “Easy, I’m one of you.”

“No. You’re a traitor,” he growls, tightening his grip on his blaster. 

“Is that what you think? Chancellor Palpatine is a sith lord. A dar’jetti. I have to warn the senate.” 

“You’re lying, step off the ledge before I stun you.”

“Okay.” Fox steps through the broken window. “Okay.” Fox reaches out, grabbing the barrel of the blaster and pointing at one trooper of the four-man squad as the weapon discharges its stunbolt. The trooper falls to the ground. 

One. 

Fox grips the barrel, ignoring how it burns his hands, and pulls, causing the squad leader to stumble forward. Fox knees him in the gap between the cod plate and thigh plate. The squad leader groans and bends at the waist, trying to absorb the pain. Fox grabs him by the chest plate and tosses him to another trooper, narrowly missing the stun bolt that had been fired at him. 

Two and Three. 

Fox whips around, ducking under the stun bolt and firing one at the final trooper. 

Four. 

He fires two more stun rounds at troopers two and three who are starting to moan. 

Going up isn’t exactly an escape, but maybe he can find his way back down once everyone is thrown off his trail. 

With no holster to hold his blaster, he shoves it down the side of his pant leg - his blacks more than tight enough to keep it in place. Just another reason why he hates blaster rifles, there is no convenient place to store them.

Stepping out onto the window sill, he takes a steadying breath before jumping and catching the sill above him. He pulls himself up, resting on his elbows, dangling what feels - and may very well be - fifteen stories in the air, and shoots out the window. He pulls himself the rest of the way up and rolls into the room where another squad of troopers waits. 

“Sorry, sir.”

He sees the ring of a stun bolt. 

And everything goes black. 

~

Riyo and Stride charge into the Coruscant Guard office where all of the commanders and other high-ranking troopers are gathered. Among them, much to Stride’s satisfaction, is the lieutenant.

“Puck!” He nearly sobs and takes four long steps to his brother. 

“Stride,” he smiles. 

The Sergeant whips off his helmet and smashes his forehead against his brother’s. “I thought you died,” Stride whispers, keeping his head firmly against Puck’s. 

“Nah, just a small blaster burn. I’ll live.” 

Riyo tears her eyes away from the happy reunion to see the rest of the group looking solemn at best. Thire has his head rested against the counter. Fort is pouring what looks to be Fox’s brandy into coffee cups for the other commanding officers. 

“Everything okay?” She asks. “I have the pardon. Let’s go get Fox.”

“You can’t,” Stone mumbles, accepting the chipped mug from Fort. 

“What? Why not?” She reels back. No, the Kaminoans couldn’t have. 

“The Kaminoans came and got him this morning,” Thire pulls his head up from the counter. He has red rings around his eyes from where he has been crying. “While we were raiding Palpatine’s Office.”

Her heart plummets to her knees. Her vision tunnels to the clone commander before her. 

“What?” She rasps, her own voice sounds far away - like she is underwater. 

“I’m sorry, Senator,” Thorn says, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

She shrugs him off. “No. We can’t just stand here. We need to try and stop them! Gather what men you can and let’s go!” This can’t be happening. They have a pardon. Everything was going to be okay. 

Everything _is_ going to be okay. 

Thire perks up, but Stone counters, “There’s no hope, Senator, they’ve probably already killed him.”

“And if they have then we will arrest them, but we must hurry!” She is already stepping away from the group towards the door. 

Thire straightens and, in a very Fox-like manner, begins delegating, “Thorn you’re in charge. Fort, re-route any distress calls to him. Stone, keep the prison in check. Puck, Stride, grab your men. You’re with us.”

He slips on his helmet and stalks out the door, Riyo scurrying after him. 

~

Fox wakes slowly and all at once. His heart pounds in his chest as they secure him to the sterile bed in an operation room. He had been so close. So close to escaping. 

“I hope you know,” Fox growls, “that it will be your fault when our great republic falls.”

Nala Se hardly offers a glance in his direction as she secures the IV drip in the crook of his elbow. “That statement is false and highly emotional. We will certainly have to go through the cleansing process multiple times to rid you of such defects.”

Fox’s throat goes dry. They are going to scrub his brain clean of everything. There is no escape now, no words he can say to convince them that they are wrong. That _this_ is wrong. He hardly deserves to be executed for the crime he committed, not without a trial, not when it wasn’t even a crime to begin with. 

A part of him is sickened that his body will live on but his mind will be lost forever. This body, _his_ body, a body that Riyo fell in love with and will have to watch roam the Senate halls, will be only a shell of the man she knew. 

His throat tightens. 

He wishes she were with him right now. He doesn’t want to be alone. 

No, he pushes that desire aside. It’s selfish. 

He wants Riyo to remember him happy, like he was on Pantora. He wants her to remember him as a good man, even though he wasn’t always one. She played a vital role in making him tolerable. He wants her to remember how she smiled at him at dinner with her parents, how he slow danced with her in the kitchen, how he laughed as they ran home in the rain. He wants her to remember how much he loved her. 

As his world begins to fade away once more he decides he doesn’t want any of that. 

He wants her to forget him entirely. 

He wants her to move on and be happy. 

He just wishes he could have been a part of her happiness. 

~

Riyo and Thire sprint down the hall to the operating room holding Fox. “Get this door open,” Thire demands and the trooper standing guard sputters as Nix comes around and begins slicing the door. 

“Sir, there is a procedure going on--” 

Riyo cuts him off, holding up the official piece of flimsi. “This is an executive pardon stating that Clone Commander Fox is innocent of all crimes accused of him. If he is decommissioned everyone who aided and abetted such action will be incarcerated immediately. Now,” she breathes. “Step aside.”

He scrambles out of their way just as the door whirls open. 

Thire takes point, rushing into the room. “Freeze! Nobody move!” He says, leveling his blaster at the Kaminoan scientist looming over Fox’s prone body.

“What is the meaning of all this?” 

Riyo steps from behind Thire and thrusts the flimsi at the closest scientist. “This man has been officially pardoned by the Chancellor of the Republic.”

“This _clone_ ,” the scientist disregards the flimsi entirely, “is our property and we will do with it what we see fit.” 

The Kaminoan lifts the syringe up the IV and stops when a blaster bolt hits her center mass. She sputters before crumpling to the ground, the syringe in her hand shattering on the floor. 

“Hands in the air or you’ll end up like Nala Se,” she hears Thire growl from behind her, but she can’t take her eyes away from Fox. He is lying prone on the operation table, the top half of his blacks removed with multiple IVs and cords hooked up to him. 

“Fox?” She breathes, but he doesn’t move. “Fox?”

“Stride, call for a medic,” Thire orders somewhere in the distance. 

She stumbles over to the gurney and takes up his hand. “Fox, you’re safe. We won,” she kisses his forehead. “You’re safe.”

~

The beeping of a heart monitor draws him back to consciousness. He is alive, at least. How very unfortunate. He had hoped that the Kaminoans would have accidently killed him while they scrubbed his brain free of memories. 

He wonders if it is common to remember being decommissioned. 

He really doesn’t feel all that different. 

Already dreading his inevitable return to the Coruscant Guard office, he opens his eyes. He is in the medbay, that much is obvious, but then he sees a small form curled up in a chair, chewing her thumbnail and staring blankly at her datapad screen. 

She looks up. “Fox,” she breathes, sliding her chair closer to his bedside. 

If they truly scrubbed his brain, they did a piss poor job of it. He’d know that smile anywhere. “Riyo,” he answers. 

“Oh thank stars, you remember. The Kaminoans, they wouldn’t tell us for certain how far they were into the procedure. The medic said we’d have to wait until you woke to know for certain.” 

“I feel fine,” he lets himself smile until reality crashes back into him. “Riyo!” he sits upright and blinks as his vision darkens.

With her hands on his shoulders, she tries to ease him back down. “You’re okay,” she promises. 

“No! No! Chancellor Palpatine! He’s a sith! I’ve got--” 

She presses a delicate finger over his lips. “It’s okay. Everything is okay. Thire and I have already handled it. General Windu killed Chancellor Palpatine and we swore in Chancellor Organa.”

His heart stops racing. “What?” 

She sits on the edge of the bed, holding his hand, and tells him everything. How they succeeded with their vote of no confidence and the events that followed shortly there after. As she regales him with the bravery of his men - though he would argue she was just as, if not more, brave than they were at some points - a wave of peace washes over him. 

They did it. 

“Though, I fear I may have to step away soon. Chancellor Organa is recalling our bill for a re-vote under his rule and I will have to cast my vote,” she whispers and kisses his bruised knuckles. 

He trails his hand up her arm and cups her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her tattoos. He had thought he was never going to see her again, he had thought that all of the memories he created with her would be gone when he woke. He has never been so grateful in his entire life; the small sliver of peace and happiness that they have created will remain theirs. He gets to stay, to be with her.

There is nothing else that could compare to the happiness this thought brings him.

“What do we do now?” He whispers. 

She kisses his palm. “Whatever we feel like.”

He very much likes the sound of that. For once, he is free to do whatever he chooses. So, he pulls her down for a kiss because he loves this woman more than life itself. 

And also because he feels like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post the epilogue here in one second! :3 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! <33


	17. Under the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was named after a song that a dear friend sent me! [After the War](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGqqSbmpXQU)

Fox waits on the platform for the newly elected Senator of Kamino. Typically while he waits, he would read their file to better acquaint himself with whatever prejudice is about to step off the transport. But this time, it is unnecessary. 

The GAR LAAT eases to a stop on the platform. 

Fox’s stomach bubbles with excitement. He doesn’t need to review any file because he already knows everything about Senator Cody Kenobi. He knows that his brother is one hell of a marksman and even more deadly in hand-to-hand combat, but he also knows he is a thoughtful and fearless leader. 

When the Kaminoans were forced to hold open elections, it was no doubt that Cody would be elected as their senator. Not only is he the most renowned clone in the GAR, but he is also one of the highest ranked ones, sharing his title with just a few other brothers. 

The LAAT door opens and Cody steps off the transport. At first, it is strange seeing him out of his armor, but Fox decides that ‘civilian’ looks good on him. His military haircut is grown out and he wears all black, except for a rather expensive looking golden jacket - no doubt a gift from the High General Kenobi. 

“If it isn’t one of the heroes of the Republic,” Fox quips as Cody draws near. He never did get around to watching the show, but he knows enough about it to rag on his brother a little.

Cody rolls his eyes. “I should be saying that about you, Fox.” 

Fox stiffens and snaps to attention. “Welcome to Coruscant, Com- er- Senator Cody. I’ll be giving you a tour of the senatorial facilities as well as showing you to your apartment here in the Senate District.”

Fox watches as Cody’s face transforms from his usual stoicism to a full smile. Heedless of his expensive coat, or Fox’s armor, Cody pulls him into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re alive, you absolute moron.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Fox slaps Cody’s back as he pulls away, only for Cody to press his forehead to Fox’s bucket. 

“Yeah but you damn near gave all of us a heart attack. Wolffe especially, you know he idolizes you.”

Yeah, he knows. When he was released from the medbay and returned to his office, he was greeted not only by three relieved commanders and one relieved lieutenant, but also by a long, _long_ stream of messages from his batchmates cursing him to hell while simultaneously hoping for his safety. 

Wolffe just happened to be the one doing most of the cursing to each of the seven rings of Corellian hell. 

They release each other from their embrace. “So, a Senator now? How does it feel?” Fox asks, leading his brother into the Senate Hall. 

“I still can’t believe it happened, if I’m being honest. I’m not even certain what the hell I’m supposed to be doing.” 

Cody never put his bucket in the ring to be the senator of Kamino and thus over a million brothers. However, when the Kaminoans proclaimed their nominee, requesting the clones do the same, it had been a landslide nomination of one Marshal Commander Cody - the leader of the 7th Sky Corps. 

“Oh I’m sure you’re well acquainted with waging wars with just words. You served under _The Negotiator_ , after all.” 

Cody scoffs. “Yeah, more like I’m used to saving his sorry shebs after he had to resort to using ‘aggressive negotiations’.”

Fox laughs.

“Do you know how many times that man has lost his lightsaber in battle?”

Fox shakes his head, mouth still pulled up into a smile. He hasn’t seen Cody since they all left Kamino. Unlike Bly or Wolffe, Cody and the rest of the 212th hardly had time for rest and recovery on Coruscant. Generals Kenobi and Skywalker were the GAR’s dream team - oftentimes swooping in at the last second to save someone or winning battles that no one else could. 

“More times than I can count. Thank the Force that the war ended when it did. I was starting to think of ways to keep that damn thing attached to his hip. Bungee cords, something.” 

Fox laughs again. “This is the main chamber,” he says as they walk through the grande hall. 

Cody stops and looks up at the ceiling. “Woah.” 

Fox lets himself smile as he watches his little brother take in everything. “Any committee meetings you may have will be located in the rooms down the halls to your left and right.” 

Cody tears his eyes away from the ornate ceiling to glance down the halls. “This place is massive, Fox. Security must be a nightmare.” 

“It is. Come on, I’ll show you to your pod.”

Cody follows easily, looking around. A few senators mingling nod their heads in greeting as they pass. Fox can hardly believe the changes that have been happening through these halls under Chancellor Organa’s rule. Before, he could barely walk through here without looks of disgust. Now, everyone watches with curious interest, but not in a negative or derogatory way. 

“Have you submitted your citizenship paperwork yet?” Cody asks. 

“No, I haven’t had the time.” That’s not entirely true, but he isn’t about to burden Cody with those details. 

“It was one of the first things I did,” Cody confesses. “General Kenobi insisted on helping every single one of us apply for citizenship. He even offered his surname to all of us.” Cody smiles before clearing his throat. “What about the, uh, procedure. Have you done that yet?” 

That was another thing to come with the inauguration of Chancellor Organa. The CRC investigated the Kaminoan cloning project only to discover there were several violations of sentient rights that had been performed upon them. The biggest one being the inhibitor chips. Bly apparently vomited violently when he found out that there had been an order to kill the Jedi lodged somewhere deep within their minds. 

Chancellor Palpatine had been one sick bastard. 

Along with the chips, it was also discovered that proper scientists - not sadistic Kaminoans - could work on gene therapy to help stop their accelerated aging along with their sterility should any brother ever desire to procreate. Apparently that was a fundamental sentient right. Who knew? 

“No, my appointment is at the end of the week. I wanted to get everything squared away before I ‘retire’,” Fox explains. The Republic had never needed an army, at least not in recent decades, so how to handle one had been a reason for hot debate within the senate as of late. After Palpatine’s plot had been foiled, the Separatists had dissolved without much confrontation - they hadn’t realized that this war had been staged from the beginning and that there had never been any hope of them winning. Of course, there had been a few skirmishes - mostly led by General Grevious who refused to surrender, but had no problem with fleeing at any opportunity. General Kenobi and the 212th had made short work of him, though. As for the ever elusive Darth Maul, General Skywalker and Commander Tano along with Rex and the 501st managed to capture him on Mandalore with few casualties. But with all the small flames put out, there was no need for an army of a million men. 

So, clones were offered retirement with benefits, of course, and reparations for having spent their entire lives as slaves. Any clone not wishing to retire were offered positions within new branches of the GAR - security forces, search and rescue, and reconstruction and aid. Almost the entire Corrie Guard opted for retirement. The senate had put them through the wringer for their time stationed here. 

“My appointment is tomorrow,” Cody says as they step into the lift. “I heard it’s awful.”

“Can’t be any worse than recovering from a hangover induced by Bacara’s home brew.” 

Cody laughs. “I almost forgot about that. He brewed it in the toilet tank.” 

“Yeah. We’re lucky _that_ didn’t kill us.” Fox leads him from the lift and down to his pod. “Your pod number is R-212, no the irony is not lost on me.” Fox says as he steps down into the pod. “Traditionally 2 to 3 people sit in a pod at a time.”

“Who else would sit with me?” Cody asks. 

“Well, most senators have aids or advisors.” 

Cody nods sagely. “Would you want to be one of my advisors? You’re way better at navigating this hellscape than me.” 

Fox scoffs. “I’ll consider it, but I’m looking forward to retiring.”

“What are you going to do?” 

“Whatever the hell I feel like.”

~

Fox arches his eyebrow at the kid standing before him. Now, he doesn’t have much experience with natborns, but he can safely qualify this kid as… well a kid. Even with his blonde hair, he barely even has the makings of a mustache on his upper lip. 

“Captain Trent Harroway,” his voice cracks, only confirming his suspicions. “Reporting for duty, sir.” 

Fox sets down his datapad. “You’re the CG replacement commander? The Senate Guard sent you?”

“Sir, yessir!” He snaps his heels together and straightens his back. 

“How long have you served with the Senate Guard?” Fox asks, studying the kid. He’s tall, lean, looks scrappy - definitely not clone material. His boys are designed to take a beating - this kid looks like he could blow over with a stiff breeze. 

“One year, sir.”

Fox nods slowly, “Kid, I want you to be honest with me. Are you going to be able to handle this?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

He valiantly suppresses an exaggerated sigh. He literally just told this shiny to be straight with him. “Of course, Captain.”

The kid relaxes. “I don’t know if I can do this, sir. I have a lot of respect for you clones… Um, you guys saved my sister during the Zillo thing? One of your men ran into a burning building to save her. I… I know I was given this position because the other guys don’t like me much; I’ve always tried defending you all when I could,” he trails off and runs his hand through his cropped, blond hair. If this kid wasn’t so worrisomely pale, he might remind him of Rex. “I don’t think I could ever replace you, sir. You have some serious durasteel balls, but I’m going to do the best I can.” 

Fox motions to Riyo’s chair. “Take a seat, kid.” 

He does, leaning forward with his eyes wide. 

“You’re going to do great. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you being the commander, or in your case, Captain, of the Corrie Guard is an easy thing to do. I know your buddies probably think I just sit around with my thumb up my ass all day.”

The kid nods. 

“But there is a lot of security that I monitor and manage.” He pulls out a datapad. “I’ll run you through all of it, but first I’m going to give you three rules to live by.”

“Yessir.”

“First, regarding your blaster. Always have it set to stun and always have the grappling hook attached. You Senate Guards don’t do either and a lot of innocent people have died on your watch and I’ve seen a lot of Senate Guards fall to their deaths. Second, always defend your men, no matter what. You’re their CO, all of their actions are your responsibility. Three, never trust anyone until they prove otherwise, but don’t be disrespectful. You’ll find allies where you never thought you’d have any.” 

The captain nods seriously. “I’ll do that, sir, thank you.”

“I’ll do as much training for you as I can in the next couple days, but at the end of the week I’ll be retiring and then I have several medical procedures the following day. Don’t hesitate to comm me, though, if you need help. If I’m not able, I can at least put you in touch with someone who is.” 

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” 

“I know you won’t, Captain. You’re a good kid.” 

The young man puffs out his chest with pride and Fox pulls up his daily schedule and gets to work.

~

Fox types in her- _their_ code into her- _their_ apartment. 

He is still getting used to all of this. In the three months that have passed since the near collapse of the Republic, Riyo made room for Fox to move in with her. The official move hadn’t been feasible for a while, though, due to operations security and the lack of free time on both of their parts. This will be the first time he has seen her in weeks, apart from just fleeting glances in the senate hall. 

He swallows thickly as he steps across the threshold. 

The apartment smells like a myriad of spices - one of which he thinks may be cinnamon after he takes a deep inhale. “Riyo?” He calls. 

She emerges from the kitchen, beaming. “Fox!” 

In an instant, he suddenly has his arms full of Riyo Chuchi and he drops his bag on the floor to better embrace her. 

“I’ve missed you,” she murmurs into his chest. 

“I’ve missed you, too.” He kisses the top of her head. “I didn’t think I was going to manage to get over here today.” After double-checking with all the men, they decided they could survive without him sleeping at the barracks. In truth, they practically kicked him out when he asked. 

She pulls away from his hug. “I am so excited to spend an entire night with you uninterrupted.”

Warmth pools in his gut. “Me too.” 

“But first! I need to show you something.” She leads him into her home office. “Remember how I applied for funding for a rehabilitation center?” 

“Yeah,” he nods. “You said you were waiting for approval the last time I heard.”

She nods eagerly, barely restraining her full grin. “Well, the funding was granted and,” she turns on her datapad and shows him what appears to be blueprints. “My parents have donated the farm to the CRC and this is the official design of the rehab center.” 

Fox takes the datapad from her and studies the blueprint. It’s amazing, really. 

She steps closer to him and begins explaining the design, “It will have several rooms for single bunks or up to five bunkmates as well as a common bunkhall if anyone isn’t ready to have private or semi-private rooms. The same goes for ‘freshers. Every private or semi-private room comes with a corresponding ‘fresher and we also have a communal washroom. Then here,” she pinches and swipes to show a different area of the blue print, “we have the education center. We’ll teach everyone basic finances, shopping, cooking, sewing, child care, and other things necessary for navigating civilian life. And over here,” she swipes to another side of the design. “Is the rec area. I’m trying to provide for any hobby imaginable, but I think I’m going to need more funding because I’m pouring most of it into making sure I have reliable and friendly staff as well as therapists.”

“Therapists?” Fox asks. 

“To help any of those… who may have battle shock or difficulty adjusting to civilian life.”

“You’ve really thought of everything,” he murmurs, looking at the blue print once more. He can’t think of a single thing to add. They will have more than they have ever fathomed. _He_ will have more than he ever fathomed. He remembers a stray thought he had once about working Ro’s land for him - now that it will be a Rehab Center for all his brothers. At first, he is a little saddened by the option being taken from him, but then he realizes it is even better because he could work there _and_ still see his brothers regularly. 

“I certainly tried,” she mutters. “Fox,” she pulls away and sets the datapad back on her desk. “There is something else I wanted to run by you.” 

“What is it?”

“Well,” she shifts. “I feel it is my duty to finish my term as senator; my people voted for me for a reason… but I also feel called to take care of the vulnerable. It is so hard to trust others with lives so important to me. Would… would you be interested in helping me run the rehabilitation facility? I, of course, would handle all of the political and funding aspects, but I need a partner who cares just as much as I do.”

“I--”

“And don’t feel pressured to answer now, mull it over. I know you’ve just gained your freedom, I’d hate to lock you down into a position unwanted.”

It’s not that at all. He loves the idea of moving to Pantora and helping brothers re-acclimate to civilian life - it’s a dream come true, actually. The problem is that he is hardly acclimated, himself. He still wakes up from nightmares and tenses under a steady gaze of a curious civilian. “I’ll think about it,” is all that he manages to say and he honestly doesn’t deserve the smile that blooms on her face from the hesitant ‘maybe’ he offered. 

“That’s all that I can ask. Now that we have finished shop talk,” she grabs his hands and leads him out of her office. “I have something else I’d like to show you.”

~

She leads him into the bedroom. All of this week, she has been preparing for this moment. She had decorators come in to remove her old furniture - a single modest dresser that matched her queen-sized bed - and replace it with a full bedroom suite that matched. All of it is deep walnut wood that contrasts the pale blue she has painted the walls. In the walk in closet, though, is her favorite surprise for him. She may have asked Puck, in one of the many times he had been escorting her around, to come in and let her take his measurements. He had protested at first, saying that he has more of a runner’s build whereas Fox is much more muscular, but she figured she could simply round up the numbers. 

“Wow, this…” he looks around their bedroom. “This looks a lot different than I remember it.”

And it should. She wanted them to have a fresh, clean start together and that is exactly what this room looks like. The bed is a four poster bed with white curtains draped over the posts and outfitted with multiple white, fluffy pillows and a white, feather comforter. The once golden lamps have been replaced with silver ones and her navy rugs have been traded for plush, white ones. 

All of this combined with the light blue of the walls and the massive window, it truly looks like they are part of the sky. 

“I re-decorated,” she says simply. 

“I… I really like it,” he drags a tentative finger over one of the posts of the bed. “This is all so nice.” 

“It is far less than what you deserve, but I hope it can be home for a while.”

He sets his bag down on the walnut chest at the end of the bed. “Riyo, home is wherever you and I are together.” 

Beaming, she steps up to him and kisses him deeply. “Come here, I have another small surprise for you.” 

He arches an eyebrow, but follows her over to the walk-in closet. She ushers him in and shows him to his side. It is far more barren than hers, but hanging there are three outfits each complete with a tunic, jacket, and pair of pants.

“I wanted to take you shopping,” she says, “but I knew I would be hard pressed to tear you away from your work while you prepare to hand over all of Coruscant to a rookie. I hope you don’t mind. I just… I didn’t want you feeling…” she trails off, looking at her feet. 

“Like I had nothing.” 

Her head snaps up to watch him run a hand down the fabric of the dark green tunic. The collar is embroidered in simple silver stitching - a very modest design, yet very dignified. Perfect for a retired Marshal Commander. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers. “I don’t… Riyo there is nothing I will ever be able to do to repay you for all the kindness you have shown me.” 

She takes up his hand and kisses his knuckles. “Fox there is no payment for something done out of love.” 

He bends down and captures her lips. 

~

“Crime has decreased 30% in sectors N-4044 through J-3022,” Fox states, pointing to his chart that he prepared for his briefing for Chancellor Organa. “If you continue with your idea of community service and a buddy-system, sir, you will probably continue to see a downward track for the next six to eight months with a plateau around month nine. At that point you can explore other options on security and trafficking,” he says. 

Bail nods, taking in the information with severity. “What are the numbers on slave trafficking?” 

Fox doesn’t even have to hesitate and flips to the next slide, having already prepared this number for the Chancellor. “In the lower sectors we have seen less abductions. In the upper levels, including the senate district, we have caught more slave traffickers and have rescued more victims of trafficking.”

“Do you believe this influx has been due to the crack down on slavery legislation?” Bail strokes his beard. 

“It’s possible sir, but I believe you will need another three months to find a correlation like that.”

Bail smiles. “And you will be long retired by then, won’t you?” 

Fox hazards a smirk and nods. “Yes sir, it won’t be my problem any more.” 

Bail stands from his chair and reaches to shake Fox’s hand. “Thank you for your service, Fox. I haven’t seen your citizenship paperwork come across my desk yet, everything okay?” 

Fox grips his hand. “Yes, sir. I just haven’t had the moment to complete it.” 

“Well when you do, I’d like to make you an offer to be the head of my security. My wife and I are getting ready to adopt a little girl and I’d feel better knowing they were protected by someone as skilled as you.”

“Wow. Thank you, sir, that would be a great honor, but I think I am going to have to respectfully decline. However, I know of several men retiring soon who may be interested in your offer.” 

Bail nods. “I understand completely and please do send any candidate you deem worthy my way. I trust your judgement above all others, my friend. I wish you the best of luck on your journeys.”

“Thank you sir.” Fox bows slightly before turning and, for the last time in his career, exits the Chancellor’s office. 

~

The door chime rings and Fox stands to get it but Riyo comes flying from the bedroom, finishing pinning up her hair and shoves him back down on the couch. “No, sit. This is your party.” 

Holding up his hands in surrender, he puts up no argument - something for which she is grateful. Fox, may the goddess bless him, is a busy body. It is his retirement party - a night to relax and celebrate the hard work and sacrifices he has made to get here. 

Ilona, of course, is the first to arrive. What surprises her, though, is that Puck is with her, dressed in civilian clothes - just a plain red jacket and black shirt. “Ilona, Puck, Welcome.”

“It’s good to see you, Senator,” Puck bows and offers a bottle of wine. “Uh, here, Ilona said it’s rude to show up empty handed.”

Riyo arches an eyebrow at Ilona, who only rolls her eyes in response, and accepts Puck’s gift. “Thank you, but it’s just Riyo at home. Would you like a glass?” 

He holds up a hand. “No thanks, ma’am- I mean, Riyo.”

She smiles and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Fox is in the living room.”

His eyes widen and, sagging with relief, he turns and darts into the sitting room. 

“Puck?” Riyo gasps, grabbing Ilona’s elbow and dragging her into the kitchen. 

“We’re just friends,” Ilona hisses. “He and Stride are staying with me while we get everything sorted out at the university.” 

“Oh?” Riyo pours them both a glass of the red wine. 

“Stride is hoping to get into law school and Puck is… well… He doesn’t think he is going to be any good at university courses and he isn’t entirely certain what he wants to do. I told him I would support him in whatever endeavor he pursues, but I think he is scared of being too far away from Stride.” 

Riyo nods and takes a sip of wine. “You should have him talk to Fox, word is that Chancellor Organa is looking for someone to head up his security detail. That would keep him local.” She wags her eyebrows at her friend.

Ilona’s eyes widen and she looks away, her cheeks turning dark indigo.

“I’m really happy for you, Lona’chka.”

Ilona smiles into her glass. “I’m happy for you, too.”

The guests start trickling in soon after. Thire, Stone, and Thorn all show up at once, bringing her so, _so_ many flowers. They had said that they weren’t certain how many were too many, but they were all so pretty they couldn’t decide. Not that she minds. She loves the rainbow array of petals. Fema shows up with Farr, both of them happy to shake Fox’s hand and congratulate him on his retirement. Within an hour of Stride’s arrival, though, he and Fema begin loudly discussing incarceration rates and harsh prison sentences. 

Commander Wolffe shows up with General Plo - both of whom will continue to serve within the search and rescue teams. Thire announces that he is eager to join them; he wants to travel and see the galaxy - what better way to do that than to help people who are being decimated by natural disasters occurring in their home systems. 

Not long after Wolffe shows up, Commander Bly and General Secura arrive, hand in hand, much to her surprise. When Riyo flutters into the kitchen - she had made enough food to feed the GAR and provide them with leftovers, as is Pantoran tradition - Aayla stops to thank her for her service to the Republic. Aayla explains that she wanted to step forward when Fox was at risk for decommissioning, but couldn’t risk her battalion for her own emotional attachments. They go on to discuss Riyo’s plan for her rehabilitation center and Aayla volunteers her services as an instructor - citing she no longer has interest in being a Jedi. 

“I’m afraid they have lost their way and I have found a new path worthy of being followed,” she explains, helping Riyo scoop food into serving bowls. 

“You are more than welcome here and at the farm any time,” Riyo reassures. “As far as I am concerned, you are family.”

Aayla smiles - something so dazzling she can see why Bly is considered the clumsy one, a distraction like that would have anyone tripping over their feet. “That means more to me than I can express.”

The next group arrives all at once, Senators Cody and Amidala, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, Commander Tano, and Captain Rex, as well as Chancellor Organa and his wife Breha. Riyo is caught by surprise for the second time that night when she sees General Skywalker kiss Senator Amidala on the cheek. 

Riyo arches an eyebrow at her friend who smiles bashfully in return. “Riyo, I think you may have met my husband once before, Ani this is Riyo, Riyo this is Ani.”

Unsticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth, Riyo smiles and shakes his outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you here tonight, General.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, not General, retired much like your… friend, Fox.”

Padmé shoots him a look that would wither a lesser man, before recovering from her husband’s poor delivery with grace. “Where is the man of the hour?” 

Riyo points to the gaggle of clones around the couch all laughing. “Over there. I’m afraid his brothers are catching up on lost time.”

“As they should,” Padme smiles, patting her arm before departing. 

Riyo watches the party unfurl and decides to refill a few of the platters that have been picked over. Carrying the crystal tray into the kitchen, she sets it down and begins refilling it with small rolls she has made. 

“Need any help?” 

She whips around and sees Fox leaning against the entryway, a lazy smile on his face. He is wearing the dark blue tunic that she had made for him and his hair is beginning to grow out once more. 

“No!” She exclaims, dropping two rolls onto the crystal platter. “This is your party! Go and enjoy it!” 

He steps into the kitchen, his smile turning predatory. “But I enjoy helping you in the kitchen, too.” He steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. 

“I think you just like stealing kisses,” she breathes. 

“I do, you’re right,” he kisses her again. 

“Ew gross,” Bly says as he enters, grabbing the refilled platter and taking it back out to the dining room. 

“Thank you!” She calls while Fox simultaneously tells him to leave them the hell alone. 

For a moment they stand, listening to the din of the crowd in their living space. 

“I wasn’t expecting such a turn out,” Fox murmurs, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

She folds her hands across his arms, resting her head upon his shoulder. “Of course you weren’t, but everyone loves you.”

He hums in the affirmative. “I guess we have quite a large family, then, don’t we?”

She pauses. 

_We_. 

She has only ever been alone. For most of her life, if she wasn’t with her family or Ilona she was a single entity in the vastness of the galaxy. Ilona always had Royan, her parents always had each other, but she was always just _Riyo_. Now, listening to all of their loved ones in the apartment, a smile rises to her lips. 

“Yes, yes we do. Now, would you mind making yourself useful and handing me that bowl?” 

~

Riyo takes Fox to his appointment promptly at 0700. They walk into the medbay and her stomach rolls with nerves. The last time she had been in here, she had been running with Thire to save Fox’s life. Now, he is well on his way to becoming a regular citizen, and perhaps a little nervous as well if the way he is holding his shoulders is any sign. 

“Are you okay?” She questions as they walk up to the reception desk. 

“Yeah,” he nods. He is not okay, his voice is strained and his shoulders are slowly rising up to his ears. 

They check in and take a seat while they wait for the medic to notify them that the OR is ready. Riyo, noticing that Fox still hasn’t relaxed, pulls out her datapad with a crossword puzzle. 

“What is the weapon the Jedi use?” She asks him. 

His gaze is locked firmly out the window and his hands curl and uncurl on top of his thighs. 

“Fox?” 

He blinks. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Are you alright?” 

He nods. “Fine.”

“Fox.” 

With a heavy sigh, his shoulders sag and his hands unflex. “Just a little nervous is all. I’m having surgery on my brain and getting gene therapy for the first time. The only medical procedure I’ve really been put under for, I almost died.” 

She reaches over and takes his hand. “Everything will be just fine. These aren’t Kaminoan scientists and you are not a lab experiment. They’re going to treat you just like any other human patient.”

He nods. “I know,” he squeezes her hand. “I know.”

“And I will be right here waiting for you when you’re done,” she smiles. “I’ll bring you home and make you soup and we’ll spend the rest of the day curled up together.”

He nods again. “Promise?”

She leans over and kisses his cheek. It still feels strange, being able to love him so openly. “You have my word.”

The medic comes and gets him shortly thereafter. Fox casts her a nervous glance over his shoulder as he is escorted away and she gives him a reassuring nod. Nothing to fear, not really. 

So she takes a steadying breath and dives into answering various correspondences. The builders of the rehab center notify her of their progress, sending holos of the foundation that they have poured. The CRC is helping clones apply for citizenship and helping them acclimate to civilian life. So far, over ten thousand clones have requested service at the Rehab Center - she really needs to think of a better name for it - but several others have chosen to continue to serve in various branches. She can hardly blame them. After living the rushed lifestyle of a Senator juggling multiple committees she can hardly fathom having a day to herself with nothing to do. 

Which is partly why she is looking forward to this weekend while Fox recovers from his treatments. He will be limited to light duty - something she is fairly certain will drive him nuts within the first few hours - and she has taken two personal days in order to focus entirely on his recovery. She can still hardly believe that they were successful. That she gets to live the rest of her days with the man she loves. 

“Senator?” The medical assistant calls from behind her. Rising, she turns around and sees Fox in a hoverchair; his eyes are glazed over slightly, but when he sees her he gets a dopey grin on his face. 

“Yes?” She answers, gathering her things. 

“Here are his aftercare instructions. After the first gene therapy he will probably experience a great deal of nausea. If he does, make sure to push fluids. If he is vomiting for over twenty-four hours, bring him back so that we can start him on an IV drip.”

Riyo nods. “I can do that.” 

“If you’d like to pull your speeder around, I’ll help you load him in.”

She moves as quickly as possible to get her speeder, especially as she watches Fox look rather like an abandoned puppy as she leaves. When she returns he gets that same goofy grin on his face and only wobbles a little, climbing into the speeder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks before she pulls away from the curb. 

“I feel great,” he slurs. “No more headaches.”

“I would imagine not with all the pain meds,” she says as she pulls away. 

“No,” he argues, his brow furrowing as he tries to gather his thoughts. “My brain feels totally different. Lighter. Like… like there isn’t a pressure right here any more,” he taps the bacta patch on the side of his head. 

“Well you did just have a chip removed,” she pulls out of the parking lot and drives them home. Fox is mostly quiet the rest of the way, though he does begin to hum quietly to himself when a good song comes on the radio. 

When she gets him home, she helps him up the lift and into the apartment. He falls down onto the couch, still smiling at her. 

“You’re awfully happy today,” she grabs one of her quilts from the arm of the couch and drapes it over him. 

He crinkles his brows with great severity and nods. “I get to look at you all the time now and you’re so beautiful.”

Giggling because she just can’t help herself, she tucks him in and pushes him back against the couch. “Go to sleep, Fox.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

~

She wakes to the sound of horrid retching. Sitting up, she reaches towards the empty, but still warm, side of their bed. “Fox?” 

She is answered by another retch and the sound of vomit hitting the water in the toilet bowl. Tossing aside her blankets, she leaps from bed and to the linen closet. She grabs a couple hand towels and enters the bathroom, where Fox has his head rested against the porcelain, panting heavily. 

“Fox?” 

He holds up his hand as he heaves into the bowl, nothing coming up this time, thankfully. “Go back to bed, I’m alright,” he mumbles. 

She wets one of the hand towels with cold water and presses it to the back of his neck. He moans in relief. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers to him. 

He retches into the bowl again. “T’s gross,” he spits into the already very murky water. 

“I don’t care,” she rubs his back. “You’re stuck with me, no matter what.” 

He smiles weakly. “I love you.”

Her heart flutters at the words. He has never really said those three words to her. Maybe there was never the time, maybe there was never a moment where he thought exchanging them was important. He always expressed himself in different ways, anyway, in changing his pace to walk with her, in memorizing how she takes her tea. There has never been a moment where she doubted his affection, but now, hearing those three words, she could cry with joy. 

Instead, she takes the dry towel and dries his sweaty forehead. “I love you, too,” she murmurs as he leans into her touch before he curls over the bowl again, his back muscles tight as he pukes up what little remains in his stomach. 

~

Riyo sits at her desk in her home office while Fox recovers from his final gene therapy appointment. To correct all of the issues the Kaminoans caused, each trooper must undergo therapy three different times. The last she checked, he was snoozing on the couch which is rather convenient, considering he _still_ hasn’t submitted his citizenship paperwork. 

“Fox?” She calls, standing and rounding her desk without taking her eyes from her datapad. It’s probably just a fluke. Fox is the most punctual man she knows, the system probably just lost his submission. 

“Yeah?” She finds him doing the dishes in the kitchen. As she had expected, Fox did not take well to work restrictions or, in general, being told he needed to sleep more than what was technically necessary for survival. 

“You haven’t submitted your citizenship paperwork yet.”

His hands freeze in the bubbly water and he keeps his eyes trained on the sink. “No… I haven’t.”

She shifts her weight back and forth. “Do… do you need help with it?”

He sighs. “No. It’s all filled in for the most part.”

She nods. “So… do you need help finishing it?” 

Setting the dish back into the water, he dries his hands on the green dish towel and turns to face her. “I don’t know what to put as my surname,” he declares.

She reels back. Is that all? 

His face reddens and he looks down at his socks. “It’s just that everything that has ever been part of me was decided by a sith lord. Cody, Wolffe, and Bly are all taking their Generals’ last names. I don’t exactly _want_ Palpatine’s name. Some of the men are making their colors their last names, but all I can think about is how you were almost _killed_ with a _red_ lightsaber. I don’t want to use my number and I feel stupid just _making_ one up. It took me forever to find my name, and in the end my brothers gave it to me, I didn’t pick it for myself.”

“You can have my last name,” she blurts before she realizes the implications of her words. “I mean- you don’t have to- it was just a suggestion.” She looks up from her feet to find him staring at her with wide eyes. Her stomach plummets to the floor. Out of all the times she has crossed his barriers, demanded more of him than she should have been allowed, this feels like her worst offense. 

“Would--” he clears his throat. “I mean, could I? Would that be alright?”

Her throat suddenly dry, all she can do is nod. 

He wets his lips and steps closer to her. “I hope I’d be taking your last name as your husband, though. Otherwise I think that would make some things really awkward.”

A laugh bubbles out of her and she grabs his hands. “I’d want nothing more than to be your wife.”

He captures her lips with his and her blood turns to molten lava in her veins. After everything, after all they have endured they finally get to be together as one. 

Later, they marry in a small ceremony on Pantora and Fox receives his clan tattoos. Fox and Riyo Chuchi head up the Clone Assimilation Initiative and help several brothers find peace in a galaxy that had been tumultuous for so long. Their days are filled with laughter and love and their nights are filled with much of the same. They spend their nights under the stars, speaking their remembrances while remaining hopeful for the future. There is no more danger, not now anyway, only peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe this is the end! Thank you all so so SO much for your never-ending love and support. And to think, some of y'all thought I was gonna leave you with a sad ending. Not in this house! >:3
> 
> Thank you again. I love you all so much and wish you all the happiest of holidays! <333

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["I'm Just a Clone"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28503507) by [cac0daemonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cac0daemonia/pseuds/cac0daemonia)




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